LXIV



Another Time, all dalliant and slow,
To those deluscious Lips I bended low,
And at the Second Kiss she only said,
"Do you do This to Every Girl you Know?"



LXV



Unto that flowery Cup I bent once more;
Again she showed no seeming to abhor,
But at the Third Kiss all she asked or wist
Was, "Is This all you Come to See me For?"



LXVI



But One there is more sage in that Caress,
Raising no mawkish Pennant of Distress,