Licia Sonnets 35
Whenas I wish, fair Licia, for a kiss
From those sweet lips where rose and lilies strive,
Straight do mine eyes repine at such a bliss,
And seek my lips thereof for to deprive;
Whenas I seek to glut mine eyes by sight,
My lips repine and call mine eyes away;
Thus both contend to have each other's right,
And both conspire to work my full decay.
O force admired of beauty in her pride,
In whose each part such strange effects there be,
That all my forces in themselves divide.
And make my senses plainly disagree.
If all were mine, this envy would be gone;
Then grant me all, fair sweet, or grant me none!
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Related quotes
Mark Antony
Whenas the nightingale chanted her vespers,
And the wild forester couched on the ground,
Venus invited me in th' evening whispers
Unto a fragrant field with roses crowned,
Where she before had sent
My wishes' complement;
Unto my heart's content
Played with me on the green.
Never Mark Antony
Dallied more wantonly
With the fair Egyptian Queen.
First on her cherry cheeks I mine eyes feasted,
Thence fear surfeiting made me retire;
Next on her warmer lips, which when I tasted
My duller spirits made active as fire.
Then we began to dart
Each at another's heart,
Arrows that knew no smart,
Sweet lips and smiles between.
Never Mark Antony
Dallied more wantonly
With the fair Egyptian Queen.
Wanting a glass to plait her amber tresses,
Which like a bracelet rich decked mine arm,
Gaudier than Juno wears whenas she graces
Jove with embraces more stately than warm;
Then did she peep in mine
Eyes' humor crystalline;
I in her eyes was seen,
As if we one had been.
Never Mark Antony
Dallied more wantonly
With the fair Egyptian Queen.
Mystical grammar of amorous glances;
Feeling of pulses, the physic of love;
Rhetorical courtings and musical dances;
Numb'ring of kisses arithmetic prove;
Eyes like astronomy;
Straight-limbed geometry;
In her art's ingeny
Our wits were sharp and keen.
Never Mark Antony
Dallied more wantonly
With the fair Egyptian Queen.
poem by John Cleveland
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Rosalind: Like to the Clear in Highest Sphere
1 Like to the clear in highest sphere
2 Where all imperial glory shines,
3 Of selfsame colour is her hair,
4 Whether unfolded or in twines:
5 Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
6 Her eyes are sapphires set in snow,
7 Refining heaven by every wink;
8 The gods do fear whenas they glow,
9 And I do tremble when I think:
10 Heigh ho, would she were mine.
11 Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud
12 That beautifies Aurora's face,
13 Or like the silver crimson shroud
14 That Ph{oe}bus' smiling looks doth grace:
15 Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
16 Her lips are like two budded roses,
17 Whom ranks of lilies neighbour nigh,
18 Within which bounds she balm encloses,
19 Apt to entice a deity:
20 Heigh ho, would she were mine.
21 Her neck, like to a stately tower
22 Where Love himself imprison'd lies,
23 To watch for glances every hour
24 From her divine and sacred eyes:
25 Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
26 Her paps are centres of delight,
27 Her paps are orbs of heavenly frame,
28 Where Nature moulds the dew of light,
29 To feed perfection with the same:
30 Heigh ho, would she were mine.
31 With orient pearl, with ruby red,
32 With marble white, with sapphire blue,
33 Her body every way is fed,
34 Yet soft in touch, and sweet in view:
35 Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
36 Nature herself her shape admires,
37 The gods are wounded in her sight,
38 And Love forsakes his heavenly fires
39 And at her eyes his brand doth light:
40 Heigh ho, would she were mine.
41 Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan
42 The absence of fair Rosalind,
43 Since for her fair there is fairer none,
44 Nor for her virtues so divine:
45 Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
46 Heigh ho, my heart, would God that she were mine!
poem by Thomas Lodge
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Like to the Clear in Highest Sphere
Like to the clear in highest sphere
Where all imperial glory shines,
Of selfsame colour is her hair,
Whether unfolded or in twines:
Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
Her eyes are sapphires set in snow,
Refining heaven by every wink;
The gods do fear whenas they glow,
And I do tremble when I think:
Heigh ho, would she were mine.
Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud
That beautifies Aurora's face,
Or like the silver crimson shroud
That Ph{oe}bus' smiling looks doth grace:
Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
Her lips are like two budded roses,
Whom ranks of lilies neighbour nigh,
Within which bounds she balm encloses,
Apt to entice a deity:
Heigh ho, would she were mine.
Her neck, like to a stately tower
Where Love himself imprison'd lies,
To watch for glances every hour
From her divine and sacred eyes:
Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
Her paps are centres of delight,
Her paps are orbs of heavenly frame,
Where Nature moulds the dew of light,
To feed perfection with the same:
Heigh ho, would she were mine.
With orient pearl, with ruby red,
With marble white, with sapphire blue,
Her body every way is fed,
Yet soft in touch, and sweet in view:
Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
Nature herself her shape admires,
The gods are wounded in her sight,
And Love forsakes his heavenly fires
And at her eyes his brand doth light:
Heigh ho, would she were mine.
Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan
The absence of fair Rosalind,
Since for her fair there is fairer none,
Nor for her virtues so divine:
Heigh ho, fair Rosalind.
Heigh ho, my heart, would God that she were mine!
poem by Thomas Lodge
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Rosaline
LIKE to the clear in highest sphere
Where all imperial glory shines,
Of selfsame colour is her hair
Whether unfolded or in twines:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her eyes are sapphires set in snow,
Resembling heaven by every wink;
The gods do fear whenas they glow,
And I do tremble when I think
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud
That beautifies Aurora's face,
Or like the silver crimson shroud
That Phoebus' smiling looks doth grace.
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her lips are like two budded roses
Whom ranks of lilies neighbour nigh,
Within whose bounds she balm encloses
Apt to entice a deity:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Her neck like to a stately tower
Where Love himself imprison'd lies,
To watch for glances every hour
From her divine and sacred eyes:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her paps are centres of delight,
Her breasts are orbs of heavenly frame,
Where Nature moulds the dew of light
To feed perfection with the same:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
With orient pearl, with ruby red,
With marble white, with sapphire blue,
Her body every way is fed,
Yet soft to touch and sweet in view:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Nature herself her shape admires;
The gods are wounded in her sight;
And Love forsakes his heavenly fires
And at her eyes his brand doth light:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan
The absence of fair Rosaline,
Since for a fair there 's fairer none,
Nor for her virtues so divine:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were mine!
poem by Thomas Lodge
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Read My Lips
(rock it!)
Ive got something you got nothing to lose
I could give you so much more than youre used to
Move a little closer, maybe we can slip away
Right now we could use a little privacy
All too much attention from your friends in here
Move a little closer,
Trust me - Im not on the make, thats a lie!
If I can pull you over, cmon lady what dyou say
Get a grip, dont resist, read my lips
Its a trip, aint a risk, read my lips
Get a grip, dont resist, read my...
(lips)
-
Part of you wanna get lucky
Part of you wanna go trade
Part of you wanna go looking
Part of you want to stay.....
(rock it!)
(chorus)
Shes all mine...
Shes all mine...
Shes all mine...
Shes all mine...
Shes all mine, all mine, all mine, all mine, all mine... (a-ha)
Shes all mine, all mine, all mine, all mine, all mine...
-
(I love you)
(read my lips)
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Muah
The mouth a cup of holy grail
By thine lips thou play a song of hail
Tis beauty discovered when thy lips brush
Mine lips wert mine love doth rush
Our kiss a song of love we praise
Thy lips mine lips thou kiss and glaze
Muah
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Clair de Lune
In the moonlit room your face,
Moonlight-coloured, fainting white,
And the silence of the place
Round about us in the night,
And my arms are round about you
In the silence of the night.
Lips that are not mine to kiss,
Lips how often kissed in vain,
Broken seal of memories,
Where the kisses come again
That the lips of all your lovers
Laid upon your lips in vain;
Eyes that are not mine to keep
In the mirror of mine eyes,
Where I tremble lest from sleep
Other ghosts should re-arise;
Why enthrall me with your magic,
Haunting lips, triumphant eyes?
For the silence of the night
Swims around me like a stream,
And your eyes have caught the light
Of a moon-enchanted dream,
And your arms glide round about me,
And I fade into a dream.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Parted Presence
LOVE, I speak to your heart,
Your heart that is always here.
Oh draw me deep to its sphere,
Though you and I are apart,
And yield, by the spirit's art,
Each distant gift that is dear.
O love, my love, you are here!
Your eyes are afar to-day,
Yet, love, look now in mine eyes.
Two hearts sent forth may despise
All dead things by the way.
All between is decay,
Dead hours and this hour that dies.
O love, look deep in mine eyes!
Your hands to-day are not here,
Yet lay them, love, in my hands.
The hourglass sheds its sands
All day for the dead hours' bier;
But now, as two hearts draw near,
This hour like a flower expands.
O love, your hands in my hands!
Your voice is not on the air,
Yet, love, I can hear your voice:
It bids my heart to rejoice
As knowing your heart is there,—
A music sweet to declare
The truth of your steadfast choice.
O love, how sweet is your voice!
To-day your lips are afar,
Yet draw my lips to them, love.
Around, beneath, and above,
Is frost to bind and to bar;
But where I am and you are,
Desire and the fire thereof.
O kiss me, kiss me, my love!
Your heart is never away,
But ever with mine, for ever,
For ever without endeavour,
To-morrow, love, as to-day;
Two blent hearts never astray,
Two souls no power may sever,
Together, O my love, for ever!
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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In My Sky At Twilight
In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.
The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
the sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!
You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon's
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depth of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.
You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begin.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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It Starts With A Kiss
It starts with a kiss,
That brings the world down,
A kiss,
That makes my body give in,
It starts with a kiss,
And your hands,
Slowly moving down my back,
And lifting me up to put my legs around you,
It starts with a kiss,
Our lips will do what they do,
My lips will part,
When yours do,
It starts with a kiss,
With my hands through your hair,
And with your hands on my waist,
Man this world seems to quake,
It starts with a kiss,
Man this is so fair,
Your lips feel so good,
On mine that just sit their,
It starts with a kiss,
That makes the whole room stop,
They see sparks fly,
And the room glow in a light so pure,
It starts with a kiss,
But when your lips leave mine,
My neck feels their company,
Then my body gives into you,
It starts with a kiss,
Your lips seem to know what to do,
Cause they are moving up and down my neck,
Once that ends they find my lips again,
It starts with a kiss,
And my body sub comes to you,
And once again,
The Kiss Is Where It All Begins! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Sonnet XXIX: When Conquering Love
To the Senses
When conquering Love did first my Heart assail,
Unto mine aid I summon'd every Sense,
Doubting, if that proud tyrant should prevail,
My Heart should suffer for mine Eyes' offence;
But he with Beauty first corrupted Sight,
My Hearing bribed with her tongue's harmony,
My Taste by her sweet lips drawn with delight,
My Smelling won with her breath's spicery.
But when my Touching came to play his part
(The King of Senses, greater than the rest),
He yields Love up the keys unto my Heart,
And tells the other how they should be blest.
And thus by those of whom I hop'd for aid
To cruel Love my Soul was first betray'd.
poem by Michael Drayton
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The Measure of Beauty
Give Beauty all her right,
She's not to one form tied;
Each shape yields fair delight,
Where her perfections bide:
Helen, I grant, might pleasing be,
And Ros'mond was as sweet as she.
Some the quick eye commends,
Some swelling lips and red;
Pale looks have many friends,
Through sacred sweetness bred:
Meadows have flowers that pleasure move,
Though roses are the flowers of love.
Free beauty is not bound
To one unmoved clime;
She visits every ground
And favours every time.
Let the old loves with mine compare,
My sovereign is as sweet as fair.
poem by Thomas Campion
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Not Mine
I have to see the fire burn in your eyes
I have to hold you and call you mine
I need to feel your lips on mine
I need to hear your covetous sighs
I feel your breath on my cheek
I feel your eyes on your feet
I wish that we could meet
I wish at your face, I could peek
Your eyes don't burn with fire
Your sighs with derision, not desire
Your lips grimace as in pain
Not mine, I realize once again
Oh, that you knew my pain!
Oh, that you knew my troubles
But you know nothing, don't you?
You know not that I need you
I close my crying eyes
My tears I do disguise
Invisible to the world
Just another lonely girl
I will just close my eyes
My mind will rewind time
To a place where you were mine
As my heart breaks, and dies
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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Licia Sonnets 44
Cruel fair love, I justly do complain
Of too much rigor and thy heart unkind,
That for mine eyes thou hast my body slain,
And would not grant that I should favour find.
I looked, fair love, and you my love looked fair,
I sighed for love and you for sport did smile.
Your smiles were such as did perfume the air,
And this perfuméd did my heart beguile.
Thus I confess the fault was in mine eyes,
Begun with sighs and ended with a flame.
I for your love did all the world despise,
And in these poems honored have your name.
Then let your love so with my fault dispense,
That all my parts feel not mine eyes' offense.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Fragoletta
O LOVE! what shall be said of thee?
The son of grief begot by joy?
Being sightless, wilt thou see?
Being sexless, wilt thou be
Maiden or boy?
I dreamed of strange lips yesterday
And cheeks wherein the ambiguous blood
Was like a rose’s—yea,
A rose’s when it lay
Within the bud.
What fields have bred thee, or what groves
Concealed thee, O mysterious flower,
O double rose of Love’s,
With leaves that lure the doves
From bud to bower?
I dare not kiss it, lest my lip
Press harder than an indrawn breath,
And all the sweet life slip
Forth, and the sweet leaves drip,
Bloodlike, in death.
O sole desire of my delight!
O sole delight of my desire!
Mine eyelids and eyesight
Feed on thee day and night
Like lips of fire.
Lean back thy throat of carven pearl,
Let thy mouth murmur like the dove’s;
Say, Venus hath no girl,
No front of female curl,
Among her Loves.
Thy sweet low bosom, thy close hair,
Thy strait soft flanks and slenderer feet,
Thy virginal strange air,
Are these not over fair
For Love to greet?
How should he greet thee? what new name,
Fit to move all men’s hearts, could move
Thee, deaf to love or shame,
Love’s sister, by the same
Mother as Love?
Ah sweet, the maiden’s mouth is cold,
Her breast-blossoms are simply red,
Her hair mere brown or gold,
Fold over simple fold
Binding her head.
Thy mouth is made of fire and wine,
Thy barren bosom takes my kiss
And turns my soul to thine
And turns thy lip to mine,
And mine it is.
Thou hast a serpent in thine hair,
In all the curls that close and cling;
And ah, thy breast-flower!
Ah love, thy mouth too fair
To kiss and sting!
Cleave to me, love me, kiss mine eyes,
Satiate thy lips with loving me;
Nay, for thou shalt not rise;
Lie still as Love that dies
For love of thee.
Mine arms are close about thine head,
My lips are fervent on thy face,
And where my kiss hath fed
Thy flower-like blood leaps red
To the kissed place.
O bitterness of things too sweet!
O broken singing of the dove!
Love’s wings are over fleet,
And like the panther’s feet
The feet of Love.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Petunia The Gardeners Daughter
(words & music by sid tepper - roy bennett)
Ive gotta gal, oh what a pal
The apple of my eye
With something rare, a peach of a pear
But her dad wont let us meet and I could die
I love petunia the gardeners daughter
Oooh how that gal can kiss
Her eyes are blue as bluebells
Each cheek a rose to see
How I dance when she plants her two lips on me
Im as daffy as a daffodil
I long to kiss her all the time
Tonight Ill steal into her garden
And make petunias two lips mine
(Ive got a beau, I love him so
The apple of my eye
With something rare, a peach of a pear
But my dad wont let us meet and I could die)
And we could die
I love petunia the gardeners daughter
Oooh how that gal can kiss
(my eyes are blue as bluebells
Each cheek a rose to see)
How I dance when she plants her two lips on me
(hes as daffy as a daffodil
He loves to kiss me all the time)
Tonight Ill steal into her garden
And make petunias two lips mine
She makes other girls look just like weeds
(Im gonna be his clinging vine)
Tonight Ill steal into her garden
And make petunias two lips
(my ever loving two lips)
Make petunias two lips mine
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Kiss Me Again
Please kiss me again,
Your lips are soft,
Like angel wings,
But when you leave me I die,
Pull me close to you again,
And kiss me softly,
With your passionate lips,
That left me breathless again,
My cheeks get hot,
And my heart seems to flutter,
When your lips meet mine,
I just seem to go under,
Just kiss me again,
If you love me you would,
Just kiss me and I will be fine,
I will never die, if you just kiss me again,
Embrace me,
I don't need you inside me,
Just to know you love me,
All I need to know that is when you kiss me,
Just kiss me pleas,
I love you,
Just kiss me,
I will never hurt,
I just need your lips on mine once again! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Lend me your Lips
Dear Love,
Lend me your Lips
For just one moment,
One day,
Once in your Lifetime
And I'll make them mine
Forever...
And you may go
Anywhere thereafter...
Any place in this world
You'll remember...
How your lips were mine
For that one moment
And how Forever...
That one moment
Became ours and ours alone.
You'll cherish that mark of mine
Those nibbles and those suckles,
Those bites of Love -
Those teasings of my tongue
Probing you in...
And you, slowly and slowly
Losing your firmness
That stiffness of your tight lips
Letting me in...
And me gaining entry -
Into those, closed lips of yours
Opening them up, like the
Blooming petals of a rose
And then, the nectar of love
Flowing from my lips
Washing you all over
Above and below,
Inside and out -
The upper and lower
Contours of your Lips.
Dear Love,
Lend me your Lips
For one last time
Let this be the First
And the last time
Ever...
I'll kiss you, smooch you
Feel you deep inside -
With my lingering lips
On the creases and folds
Of your moistened mouth.
Wetting you all over...
With the dripping wine
The bitter-sweet saline
Of my very seductive
Thirsty Lips...
Lend me your Lips, My Love
And let me imprint it
With the seal of a Lover
On her Beloved's Lips
And let this Kiss
Be once and Forever
For you to carry
In all your travels...
In your vivid memories
Of this soft and arousing
Tender love-making
Of my Lips
Entwined around yours.
Like the Dance of Serpents
Coiling in Love...
Fanging each other
With the sweet taste of poison.
Merging their mouths
Into unexplored trails of
Giddy Intoxication...
To make them endure -
And last them a lifetime
Of painful separation.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Ecstasy
Cover mine eyes, O my Love!
Mine eyes that are weary of bliss
As of light that is poignant and strong
O silence my lips with a kiss,
My lips that are weary of song!
Shelter my soul, O my love!
My soul is bent low with the pain
And the burden of love, like the grace
Of a flower that is smitten with rain:
O shelter my soul from thy face!
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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How Can I...
From your soft, full lips,
A tender kiss when slips,
And lands on mine with a hiss,
Causes my SELF to miss.
The lilt when your lips part
From mine is what reminds me
Of the vibes-driven waves of
Desire and passion you set in.
Who would like to part
From You, Oh, blessed damsel,
Though ages drag
Dark veils on waning youth
And scowl-full decrepitude!
poem by Tajudeen Shah
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