When Lips Meet Lips

Whenever I press my lips to yours

     In the joy of a new-born kiss,

And your lips, like mine, cling close to mine,

     I am lost in the realms of bliss.

My spirit soars to an unknown height,

     I am dazed as one in a dream;

And the red blood flows from its calm repose,

     And love rules the world supreme.

Whenever I press my lips to yours

     (And your lips are wrought to kiss)

My soul is afire with warm desire,

     For never was love like this!

I drink your short, pulsating breath

     Which but adds to my warming glow;

But I feel you shrink from the tempting brink

     Where lovers are prone to go.

Whenever I press my lips to yours

     I care not for right or wrong;

I am deaf to the fault that makes men halt,

     I hear only love’s sweet song.

So beware, fair maid of my fondest dream,

     Lest my fondest dream matures;

I am drunk with bliss, which is not amiss,

     Whenever my lips press yours!

July 10, 1912