She felt my lips’ impassioned touch,— ’Twas the first time I dared so much; And yet she chid not, But whispered o’er my burning brow, “Oh! do you doubt I love you now?” Sweet soul! I did not. A REBUS. “What is a rebus?” I asked of dear Mary, As close by my side the dear maiden was seated: I saw her eye droop and her countenance vary As she said in reply, “’Tis a kiss, sir, repeated.” THE DIFFERENCE. My brother is shy,—I am not shy at all; So, when there’s a mistletoe hung in our hall, _He_ manages always to miss all the kisses, While _I_, on the contrary, kiss all the misses. STOLEN KISSES. Kiss her gently, but be sly; Kiss her when there’s no one by; Steal your kiss, for then ’tis meetest— Stolen kisses are the sweetest. THE REASON WHY. An impertinent youth at Saratoga amused himself by exhibiting the following lines to some of the ladies at a hotel: Men scorn to kiss among themselves, And scarce would kiss a brother; But women want to kiss so bad, They kiss and kiss each other. Whereupon a young lady pencilled this retort on the back of an envelope, and left it for the fool’s instruction: Men do not kiss among themselves, And it’s well that they refrain: The bitter dose would vex them so, They would never kiss again. As sometimes on poor woman’s lip Is applied this nauseous lotion, We _have_ to kiss among ourselves As a counteracting potion. THE INVENTOR OF KISSING. When we dwell on the lips of the girl we adore, What pleasure in Nature is missing? May his soul be in heaven—he deserves it, I’m sure— Who was first the inventor of kissing. Master Adam, I verily think, was the man Whose discovery can ne’er be surpast; Then, since the sweet game with creation began, To the end of the world may it last. WOLCOT. FORGIVENESS. Forgive thy foes; nor that alone; Their evil deeds with good repay; Fill those with joy who leave thee none, And kiss the hand upraised to slay. So does the fragrant sandal bow, In meek forgiveness, to its doom, And o’er the axe at every blow Sheds in abundance rich perfume. THE RIGHTS OF MEN. While others, Delia, use their pen To vindicate the rights of men, Let us, more wise, to bliss attend: Be ours the rights which they defend. Those eyes that glow with love’s own fire, And what they speak so well inspire; That melting hand, that heaving breast, That rises only to be prest; That ivory neck, those lips of bliss Which half invite the offered kiss; These, these—and Love approves the plan— I deem the dearest rights of man. TO A PAINTED LADY IN THE OLDEN TIME.