Bee

Sunday, January 18, 2009

You say you love; but with a voice

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You say you love; but with a voice
Chaster than a nun's, who singeth
The soft vespers to herself
While the chime-bell ringeth--
O love me truly!
You say you love; but with a smile
Cold as sunrise in September,
As you were Saint Cupid's nun,
And kept his weeks of Ember--
O love me truly!
You say you love; but then your lips
Coral tinted teach no blisses,
More coral in the sea--
They never pout for kisses--
O love me truly!
You say you love; but then your hand
No soft squeeze for squeeze returneth;
It is like a statue's, dead,--
While mine for passion burneth--
O love me truly!
O breathe a word or two of fire!
Smile, as if those words should burn me,
Squeeze as lovers should--O kiss
And in thy heart inurn me--
O love me truly!
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John Keats