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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


ODES TO NEA: 7. A KISS A L'ANTIQUE by THOMAS MOORE

First Line: BEHOLD, MY LOVE, THE CURIOUS GEM
Last Line: AND -- THUS I KISS THEE -- O MY LOVE!

BEHOLD, my love, the curious gem
Within this simple ring of gold;
'Tis hallow'd by the touch of them
Who lived in classic hours of old.

Some fair Athenian girl, perhaps,
Upon her hand this gem display'd,
Nor thought that Time's eternal lapse
Should see it grace a lovelier maid!

Look, darling, what a sweet design!
The more we gaze, it charms the more:
Come, -- closer bring that cheek to mine,
And trace with me its beauties o'er.

Thou see'st, it is a simple youth
By some enamour'd nymph embraced --
Look, Nea love! and say in sooth
Is not her hand most dearly placed?

Upon his curled head behind
It seems in careless play to lie,
Yet presses gently, half inclined
To bring his lip of nectar nigh!

O happy maid! too happy boy!
The one so fond and faintly loth,
The other yielding slow to joy --
Oh, rare indeed, but blissful both!

Imagine, love, that I am he,
And just as warm as he is chilling;
Imagine, too, that thou art she,
But quite as cold, as she is willing:

So may we try the graceful way
In which their gentle arms are twined,
And thus, like her, my hand I lay
Upon thy wreathed hair behind:

And thus I feel thee breathing sweet,
As slow to mine thy head I move;
And thus our lips together meet,
And -- thus I kiss thee -- O my love!



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