A Western congressman, not otherwise known as a poet, delivered this tribute to his favorite kiss—and who shall say that his dithyrambs lack the true poetic flair?
Talk about kissing! Go away! I have kissed in the North, I have kissed in the South; I have repeated the soul-stirring operation East and West; I have kissed in Texas and away down in Maine; I have kissed at Long Branch and at the Golden Gate—in fact, in every State in the Union; in every language and according to the manners and customs of every nation. I have kissed on the Mississippi and all its tributaries; but, young man, for good sound kissing, give me a full-fledged Caribou girl. When you feel the pegs drawn right through the soles of your feet, from your boots, that's kissing, that is.
This tribute to the efficacy of the Indian kiss is increased, when we recall that this was a custom taught to the red by the white. There is less poetry but more piety in the discussion of a kiss by the Rev. Sidney Smith, the witty divine, who said:
We are in favor of a certain amount of shyness when a kiss is proposed, but it should not be too long, and when the fair one gives it, let it be administered with a warmth and energy; let there be soul in it. If she closes her eyes and sighs immediately after it, the effect is greater. She should be careful not to slobber a kiss, but give it as a humming-bird runs his bill into a honey-suckle, deep but delicate. There is much virtue in a kiss, when well delivered. We have the memory of one we received in our youth which lasted us forty years, and we believe it will be one of the last things we shall think of when we die.
The poetry is more obvious in a poem like Kisses Three:
