In a Gondola

The 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 hope 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 shatter’d cup

- Robert Browning

- Robert Browning Poetry

Books on Robert Browning Poetry

Robert Browning

Robert Browning Poetry

- British Poets