Kiss me quick, my baby boy,— Mother’s darling, mother’s joy! Beat the little drum no more; Let the horse lie on the floor. Do not move a foot or hand; Kiss me, kiss me, where you stand, Through the chair while I am kneeling, And the flies look from the ceiling. That’s a noble little boy! Mother’s darling, mother’s joy! ’Twas a kiss well worth the getting; Kissing better is than fretting. * * * * * A kiss when I wake in the morning, A kiss when I go to bed, A kiss when I burn my fingers, A kiss when I bump my head. A kiss when my bath is over, A kiss when my bath begins; My mamma is full of kisses, As full as nurse is of pins. A kiss when I play with my rattle, A kiss when I pull her hair; She covered me over with kisses The day I fell from the stair. A kiss when I give her trouble, A kiss when I give her joy: There’s nothing like mamma’s kisses For her own little baby-boy. RHAPSODIES. I. You kissed me, my head dropped low on your breast, With a feeling of shelter and infinite rest, While the holy emotion my tongue dared not speak Flushed up like a flame from my heart to my cheek! Your arms held me fast! Oh, your arms were so bold! Heart responded to heart in that passionate fold! Your glances seemed drawing my soul through mine eyes, As the sun draws the mist from the sea to the skies. And your lips clung to mine till I prayed, in my bliss, They might never unclasp from that rapturous kiss! You kissed me! my heart and my breast and my will In delicious delight for the moment stood still! Life had for me then no temptations, no charms, No vista of pleasure outside of your arms! And were I this moment an angel possessed Of the glory and peace that belong to the blest, I would cast my white robes unrepiningly down, And tear from my forehead its beautiful crown, To nestle once more in that haven of rest, With your lips pressed to mine, and my head on your breast! You kissed me! my soul in a bliss so divine Reeled and swooned like a man that is drunken with wine! And I thought, ’twere delicious to die then, if death Would come while my lips were still moist with your breath! ’Twere delicious to die, if my heart might grow cold While your arms wrapped me fast in that passionate hold! And these are the questions I ask day and night: Must my life taste but once such exquisite delight? Would you care if my breast were your shelter as then? And if I were there would you kiss me again? II.