In various kisses various charms I find, For changeful fancy loves each changeful kind: Whene’er with mine thy humid lips unite, Then humid kisses with their sweets delight; From ardent lips so ardent kisses please, For glowing transports often spring from these. What joy! to kiss those eyes that wanton rove, Then catch the glances of returning love; Or clinging to the cheek of crimson glow, The bosom, shoulder, or the neck of snow; What pleasure! tender passion to assuage, And see the traces of our amorous rage On the soft neck or blooming cheek exprest, On the white shoulder, or still whiter breast! ’Twixt yielding lips, in every thrilling kiss, To dart the trembling tongue,—what matchless bliss! Inhaling sweet each other’s mingling breath, While Love lies gasping in the arms of Death! While soul with soul in ecstasy unites, Entranced, impassioned, with the fond delights From thee received, or given to thee, my love! Alike to me those kisses grateful prove; The kiss that’s rapid, or prolonged with art, The fierce, the gentle, equal joys impart: But mark! be all my kisses, beauteous maid, With different kisses from thy lips repaid; Then varying rapture shall from either flow, As varying kisses either shall bestow: And let the first who with an unchanged kiss Shall cease to thus diversify the bliss, Observe, with looks in meek submission dressed, That law by which this forfeiture’s expressed: “As many kisses as each lover gave, As each might in return again receive, So many kisses from the vanquished side The victor claims, so many ways applied.” KISS XI. Some think my kisses too luxurious told, Kisses, they say, not known to sires of old: But, while entranced on thy soft neck I lie, And o’er thy lips in tender transport die, Shall I then ask, dear life, perplexed in vain, Why rigid cynics censure thus my strain? Ah, no! thy blandishments so rapturous prove That every ravished sense is lost in love: Blest with those blandishments, divine I seem, And all Elysium paints the blissful dream. Neæra heard,—then, smiling, instant threw Around my neck her arm of fairest hue, And kissed me fonder, more voluptuous far, Than Beauty’s queen e’er kissed the god of War: “What (cries the nymph)! and shall my amorous bard Pedantic wisdom’s stern decree regard? Thy cause must be at my tribunal tried: None but Neæra can the point decide.” KISS XII.