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YOU KISSED ME.
And your lips clung to mine, till I prayed in my
They might never unclasp in that rapturous kiss.
You kissed me !-my heart, and my breast, and ay will,
In delirious joy for a moment stood still;
Life had for me then no temptations or charms,
You kissed me !-my soul, in a bliss so divine, Reeled and swooned like a foolish man 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 wrapt me close in that passionate hold.
And these are the questions I ask day and night: Must my life taste but one such exquisite delight?
Would you care if your breast were my shelter as then? to
And if you were here, would you kiss me again? JOSIE S. HUNT.
HE AND SHE.
"She is dead!" they said to him; "come away, Kiss her and leave her-thy love is clay!"
They smoothed her tresses of dark brown hair, On her forehead of stone they laid it fair;
Over her eyes, that gazed too much,
With a tender touch they closed up well
About her brows and beautiful face
And drew on her white feet her white silk shoesWhich were the whitest no eye could choose
And over her bosom they crossed her hands. "Come away!" they said, "God understands."
HE AND SHE.
And there was silence, and nothing there
And jasmine, and roses, and rosemary;
And they held their breath till they left the room With a shudder, to glance at its stillness and gloom.
But he who loved her too well to dread
The sweet, the stately, the beautiful dead,
He lit his lamp and took the key
He and she; but she would not speak, Though he kissed, in the old place, the quiet cheek.
He and she; yet she would not smile,
Though he called her the name she loved erewhile.
He and she; still she did not move
To any one passionate whisper of love.
Then he said, "Cold lips, and breasts without breath,
Is there no voice, no language of death?
Dumb to the ear and still to the sense,
See now, I will listen with soul, not ear;
Was it the infinite wonder of all
Or was it a greater marvel to feel
Was the miracle greater to find how deep Beyond all dreams sank downward that sleep?
Did life roll back its records, dear,
And was it the innermost heart of the bliss
O, perfect dead! O dead most dear
I listen as deep as to horrible hell,
There must be pleasure in dying, sweet,
I would tell you darling, if I were dead,
I would say, though the Angel of Death had laid
His sword on my lips to keep it unsaid.
You should not ask vainly, with streaming eyes, Which of all deaths was the chiefest surprise,
The very strangest and suddenest thing
Ah, foolish world! O most kind dead!
Who will believe that he heard her say,
The utmost wonder is this-I hear
And see you, and love you, and kiss you, dear;
And am your angel, who was your bride,
I love you so dear soul, I love you so!
Lest you who know so much, should know too
For what you see 'tis safe for you to know,