Sleeping in some green bower, and wrapped
In wool for twenty breathless years -
Was that the way your beauty kept?
You're but a dribbling baby yet,
My cuckoo-flower with the soft moist mouth -
Your kisses always leave me wet.
If Love had time I would not rest
Until I reached your heart at last,
And kissed a tunnel through your breast!
But Life's too short for Love's long dreams -
How many ages would we need
To reach the end of one of his schemes?
Disturbed in life, from morn till night,
We pass away like butterflies,
That snatch their kisses in their flight.