Classic Poem

I saw the lovers. Held in passion's chain
They kissed and clipped, then clipped and kissed again,
If thus they might their endless thirst abate
And dull the torment of their parted state.
Fain were they in each other's heart to hide
And so at last a change of raiment tried.

He, as Achilles once on Scyros shore,
A maiden's smock upon his body wore;
She, like Diana kilted to the knee,
Strode boldly forth in manly tunic free.
But soon their lips once more together pressed,
Unquenched the craving of their love confessed.

E'en as two stems unite to make one vine
And tendrils none can part together twine,
So close their bodies did they interlace
With limbs entangled in a soft embrace.
Thrice blessed they on whom such fetters lie,
Who never know our parting's agony.