Ambition, and Other Poems/Hand or Mouth
Hand or Mouth
This, then, is Pleasure's bower,
Where every thing can please;
Her cushions are of silk,
She plays on ivory keys.
She gives her hand to kiss,
Before I leave her bower:
'I thank you, pretty one,
For this light hour.'
Where every thing can please;
Her cushions are of silk,
She plays on ivory keys.
She gives her hand to kiss,
Before I leave her bower:
'I thank you, pretty one,
For this light hour.'
Out in the garden now
Young Joy sits all alone;
The cushion she sits on
Is nothing but a stone;
Her naked lips are all
The music she can play;
She gives her mouth to kiss—
Sweet Joy, I stay!
Young Joy sits all alone;
The cushion she sits on
Is nothing but a stone;
Her naked lips are all
The music she can play;
She gives her mouth to kiss—
Sweet Joy, I stay!