My love and I for kisses played: She would hold stakes; I was content; But when I won, she would be paid; With that, I asked her what she meant. “Nay, since I see,” quoth she, “your wrangling vain, Take your own kisses; give me mine again.”[31] DECLINING A KISS. Said the master to Mary, a sweet-lipped lass, As she stood in her place at the head of her class, “You can decline ‘a kiss,’ no doubt?” “I can,” she replied, with a blush and a pout, And a glance to the master’s heart there shot, “But, sir, if you please, I would rather not.” EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS. I recollect a nurse called Ann, Who carried me about the grass, And one fine day a nice young man Came up and kissed the pretty lass. She did not make the least objection! Thinks I, “Ah! When I can talk, I’ll tell mamma”— And that’s my earliest recollection. FREDERICK LOCKER. THE DISAPPOINTMENT. Old Birch, who taught a village school, Wedded a maid of homespun habit: He was as stubborn as a mule, And she was playful as a rabbit. Poor Kate had scarce become a wife, Before her husband sought to make her The pink of country polished life, And prim and formal as a Quaker. One day the tutor went abroad, And simple Katy sadly missed him: When he returned, behind her lord She slyly stole, and fondly kissed him. The husband’s anger rose, and red And white his face alternate grew. “Less freedom, ma’am!”[32] Kate sighed, and said, “_Oh, dear! I didn’t know ’twas you!_” NON-COMPUTATION. Old Jealousy would count our blisses; Then give to me a thousand kisses, Quick kissing me—quick kissing thee— Oh, quick, oh, quick, the jade to trick! O Ada, kiss so many kisses, She, counting ever, ever misses. LESSING. BIANCA’S DREAM. Meanwhile, remindful of the convent bars, Bianca did not watch these signs in vain, But turned to Julio at the dark eclipse, With words like verbal kisses on her lips. He took the hint full speedily, and, backed By love, and night, and the occasion’s meetness, Bestowed a something on her cheek that smacked (Though quite in silence) of ambrosial sweetness,— That made her think all other kisses lacked Till then, but what she knew not, of completeness: Being used but sisterly salutes to feel, Insipid things—like sandwiches of veal. HOOD. THE HONEY-MOON. Oh, happy, happy, thrice happy state, When such a bright planet governs the fate Of a pair of united lovers! ’Tis theirs, in spite of the serpent’s hiss, To enjoy the pure primeval kiss With as much of the old original bliss As mortality ever recovers. HOOD. NO DOUBT OF IT.