Verse > Anthologies > William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. > The Book of Restoration Verse
William Stanley Braithwaite, ed.  The Book of Restoration Verse.  1910.
The Kiss
By Thomas Stanley (1625–1678)
  WHEN on thy lip my soul I breathe,
        Which there meets thine,
  Freed from their fetters by this death,
    Our subtle forms combine:
  Thus without bonds of sense they move,        5
And like two cherubim converse by love.
  Spirits to chains of earth confin’d
        Discourse by sense;
  But ours, that are by flames refin’d,
    With those weak ties dispense.        10
  Let such in words their minds display:
We in a kiss our mutual thoughts convey.
  But since my soul from me doth fly,
        To thee retir’d,
  Thou canst not both retain; for I        15
    Must be with one inspir’d;
  Then, Dearest, either justly mine
Restore, or in exchange let me have thine.
  Yet if thou dost return mine own,
        O tak’t again!        20
  For ’tis this pleasing death alone
    Gives ease unto my pain.
  Kill me once more, or I shall find
Thy pity than thy cruelty less kind.

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