Poetry Archives

The way that lovers use is this;
 They bow, catch hands, with never a word,
And their lips meet, and they do kiss,
—So I have heard.

They queerly find some healing so,
 And strange attainment in the touch;
There is a secret lovers know,
—I have read as much.

And theirs no longer joy nor smart,
 Changing or ending, night or day;
But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart,
—So lovers say.