A kiss! oh, ’tis a magic spell That wildly thrills the breast, And bids it with emotion swell When lip to lip is pressed; ’Tis friendship’s breath, affection’s seal, And, though a transient bliss, The proudest, coldest heart must feel The rapture of a kiss. A kiss! yes, ’tis a dear delight, Whose memory often cheers, And sheds through clouds a radiance bright, In scenes of after-years. When sorrows o’er the bosom roll, Who hath not felt a bliss Spread swiftly through the glowing soul Beneath a magic kiss? FIVE TWICES. “Papa, the bell’s a-ringin’ For church—an’ mus’ you go? And I was been a-bringin’ Your boots an’ fings for you. And that’s all I’m a-good for, Jus’ cos’ to love you some, And here’s my bestest hood, for To meet you comin’ home. “Now jus’ I want you kiss me Afore you goes away, ’Cause maybe you might miss me— Bein’ to church all day. Now I’m ‘your little mices,’ To creep up on your knee; ’F you’ll kiss me _all five twices_, Why—then—I’ll—_let you be_.”[12] So climbs “my little mices” Up on my willing knees, And takes her full “five twices” As oft as doth her please; The while that I am drinking Kiss-cups of purest bliss, And, dreamy-joyous, thinking, Was ever love like this? Yet, mid my fond caressing, I mind the time of old When little ones, for blessing, The Christ-arms did enfold. And so I tell the story Unto my little maid,— How our Good Lord of Glory, While here with us he stayed, Would take the little children Up on his friendly knee, The while his kindness filled them With fearless, gentle glee. Then, soft and sweetly laying His dear hand on their head, They knew that he was praying,— They heard the prayer he said! And so, her blue eyes deeping, Upon her head I lay My hand, while, moved to weeping, Unto the Lord I say, “O loving, gracious Father, Bless this dear babe, I pray, And with thy people gather My child, at that great day.” Bathed in a holy beauty, The little maid slips down, And I to “higher duty” The chiming summons own. But childhood’s quaint devices Once more must needs appear: “_Did he kiss ’em all five twices?_” Is the last word I hear! NUTTING. NURSERY RHYMES. What is to me the sweetest thing That the morning light can bring? It is this,— My mother’s kiss. And, if gentle watch she’ll keep, What gives me the sweetest sleep? Only this,— My mother’s kiss. Nothing else so dear can be, Nothing brings such joy to me, As does this,— My mother’s kiss. Then, if I’m a pleasant child, Kind, obedient, and mild, I’ll have this,— My mother’s kiss. * * * * *