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��ROBERT BROWNING
732 In a Gondola
SHE moth's kiss, first! Kiss me as if you made me believe You were not sure, this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed Its petals up, so, here and there You brush it, till I grow aware Who wants me, and wide ope I burst.
The bee's kiss, now' Kiss me as if you enter'd gay My heart at some noonday, A bud that dares not disallow The claim, so all is render'd up, And passively its shattcr'd cup Over your head to sleep I bow.
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1 /
��733 Meeting at Night
SHE gray sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low, And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gam the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach,
Three fields to cross till a farm appears,
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
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