Kisssing

He kissed a hundred times on her sweet lips;
She said, “Enough, or drunk on love I’ll get.”
He took some back, to sober her a bit,
But drunk got he, for still the wine was wet.
So back took she the all that he had giv’n,
Yet for good luck she added sweet new seven.
Sparrows, cheeping for each give and take,
Cheeped on through night till morning did awake,
And then, so tired out, they silent were,
For much accounting they could hardly stir.
O kissing, Kissing, see what you have done!
The world’s gone backward since you first begun!
To turn the world around and go straight on
You’ll have to kiss again till morrow’s dawn!

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