1. Has it a body?—2. Ay, and wings, With thousand rare encolorings; And as it flies, it gently sings, _Chor._ Love honey yields, but never stings. ROBERT HERRICK. THE SIRENS’ SONG. Steer hither, steer your wingèd pines, All beaten mariners: Here lie undiscovered mines A prey to passengers; Perfumes far sweeter than the best Which make the phœnix urn and nest; Fear not your ships, Nor any to oppose you save our lips; But come on shore, Where no joy dies till love hath gotten more. For swelling waves, our panting breasts, Where never storms arise, Exchange; and be awhile our guests; For stars, gaze on our eyes; The compass, Love shall hourly sing, And, as he goes about the ring, We will not miss To tell each point he nameth with a kiss. BROWNE: _Inner Temple Masque._ THE KISS. Oh that a joy so soon should waste! Or so sweet a bliss As a kiss Might not forever last! So sugared, so melting, so soft, so delicious, The dew that lies on roses, When the morn herself discloses, Is not so precious. Oh, rather than I would it smother, Were I to taste such another, It should be my wishing That I might die kissing. BEN JONSON. * * * * * Thou more than most sweet glove, Unto my more sweet love, Suffer me to store with kisses This empty lodging that now misses The pure rosy hand that wore thee, Whiter than the kid that bore thee. Thou art soft, but that was softer; Cupid’s self hath kissed it ofter Than e’er he did his mother’s doves, Supposing her the queen of loves, That was thy mistress, Best of gloves. BEN JONSON. TO CHARIS. [Begging another kiss, on condition of mending the former.] For Love’s sake, kiss me once again; I long, and should not beg in vain; Here’s none to spy or see: Why do you doubt or stay? I’ll taste as lightly as the bee, That doth but touch his flower and flies away. Once more, and, faith, I will be gone: Can he that loves ask less than one? Nay, you may err in this, And all your bounty wrong: This could be called but half a kiss; What we’ve but once to do, we should do long. I will but mend the last, and tell Where, how, it would have relished well; Join lip to lip, and try; Each suck the other’s breath, And, whilst our tongues perplexed lie, Let who will think us dead, or wish our death. BEN JONSON. THE PARTING KISS. One kind kiss before we part, Drop a tear, and bid adieu: Though we sever, my fond heart, Till we meet, shall pant for you. Yet, yet weep not so, my love, Let me kiss that falling tear: Though my body must remove, All my soul will still be here.