The Kiss


THE KISS.


LUCINDA breathed a pensive sigh;

Lucinda wept, she knew not why;

Arch Damon stole a kiss, and she

Looked, in her turn— as arch as he!

 

Thus have I seen an April morn,

All bathed in tears, like nymph forlorn;

Till Phoebus rose, her bridegroom gay,

And then—she blushed herself to day!