Please – Shall I kiss this face? This damp and moist
And soothing, rushing face, which has been dressed
‘Neath curving curls, atop a russet chest,
Which smells too sweet, above which birds rejoiced –
Please – Shall I kiss this face? Which I now hoist
Far from its seat, make sanctified and blessed,
Which nestles flowers in its warming breast,
Which never has complained or to me voiced
A doubt of my appeal – O Narcissus,
You kissed the face that was your own, and dove
Within yourself – I fight with no purpose
So nobly imprudent or mocking Jove –
Perhaps I wish to kiss because, jealous,
I’ll follow him below and then above.
June 12
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