I GROW so weary, someway, of all things That love and loving have vouchsafed to me, Since now all dreamed-of sweets of ecstasy Am I possessed of: The caress that clings -- The lips that mix with mine with murmurings No language may interpret, and the free, Unfettered brood of kisses, hungrily Feasting in swarms on honey blossomings Of passion's fullest flower -- For yet I miss The essence that alone makes love divine -- The subtle flavoring no tang of this Weak wine of melody may here define: -- A something found and lost in the first kiss A love ever poured through lips of mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INDIAN'S WELCOME TO THE PILGRIM FATHERS by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY AUTUMN MESSAGES by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) HOME'S A NEST by WILLIAM BARNES LEMNISCUS AD COLUMNAM S. SIMEONIS STYLITAE APPENSUS by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |