Show wot 1 I would not kiss the sweetest lip unless it eissed me too As well from the young rosebud rose bud sip the mornings clear cold dew nor clasp a hand though so soft ft and wa rm im unless it pressed mine too id rather love the perfect form carved out of stone I 1 will not worship eyes though bright and beautiful they be unless they bend their living light on me and only me I 1 would not love a form that heaven itself had stamped divine if I 1 but dreamed that love was given to other hearts than mine |