I would not kiss thee, I ! 
Lest my lip’s charactery 
Ruin thy flower. 
Curve thou one maidenly 
Kiss, stooping from thy sky 
Of peace and power ! 
Thine only be the embrace !— 
I move not from my place, 
Feel the exultant face 
Mine for an hour ! 
 
 
Mine, and for ever mine ; 
Dim glory in the shrine 
Of Artemis 
Endymion-lured to wine, 
And dove-looks Erycine, 
Flower-scented bliss ! 
O sweet !  O saint !  I swoon 
Beneath the guiding moon ; 
In thine embrace, the tune 
Of that one kiss. 
 
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