The Kiss (Moore)

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by Thomas Moore.

Give me, my love, that billing kiss
I taught you one delicious night,
When, turning epicures in bliss,
We tried inventions of delight.

Come, gently steal my lips along,
And let your lips in murmurs move, -
Ah, no! - again - that kiss was wrong -
How can you be so dull, my love?

'Cease, cease!' the blushing girl replies -
And in her milky arms she caught me -
'How can you thus your pupil chide;
You know' twas in the dark you taught me!'


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