Kisses Loathsome.

I abhor the slimy kiss,
Which to me most loathsome is.
Those lips please me which are placed
Close, but not too strictly laced:
Yielding I would have them; yet
Not a wimbling tongue admit:
What should poking-sticks make there,
When the ruffe is set elswhere?

Robert Herrick

Robert Herrick was a 17th-century English lyric poet and cleric. He is known for his book of poems, "Hesperides," which includes the carpe diem poem "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time." His works are noted for their clarity, simplicity, and musical quality. Herrick was also a vicar of Dean Prior in Devon, despite being ejected during the English Civil War and later reinstated.

Robert Herrick

His Petition.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Mrs Eliz. Wheeler, Under The Name Of Amarillis

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Staff And Rod.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

What God Is.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Lips Tongueless.

For my part, I never care
For those lips that tongue-tied are:
Tell-tales I would have them be
Of my mistress and of me.
Let them prattle how that I
Sometimes freeze and sometimes fry:
Let them tell how she doth move
Fore or backward in her love:
Let them speak by gentle tones,
One and th' other's passions:
How we watch, and seldom sleep;
How by willows we do weep;
How by stealth we meet, and then
Kiss, and sigh, so part again.
This the lips we will permit
For to tell, not publish it.

Robert Herrick

No Loathsomeness In Love.

What I fancy I approve,
No dislike there is in love.
Be my mistress short or tall,
And distorted therewithal:
Be she likewise one of those
That an acre hath of nose:
Be her forehead and her eyes
Full of incongruities:
Be her cheeks so shallow too
As to show her tongue wag through;
Be her lips ill hung or set,
And her grinders black as jet:
Has she thin hair, hath she none,
She's to me a paragon.

Robert Herrick

Kisses.

Give me the food that satisfies a guest:
Kisses are but dry banquets to a feast.

Robert Herrick

Upon Loach.

Seal'd up with night-gum, Loach each morning lies,
Till his wife licking, so unglues his eyes.
No question then, but such a lick is sweet,
When a warm tongue does with such ambers meet.

Robert Herrick

The Kiss: A Dialogue

Among thy fancies, tell me this,
What is the thing we call a kiss?
I shall resolve ye what it is:

It is a creature born and bred
Between the lips, all cherry-red,
By love and warm desires fed,
CHOR.And makes more soft the bridal bed.
It is an active flame, that flies
First to the babies of the eyes,
And charms them there with lullabies,
CHOR.And stills the bride, too, when she cries.
Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear,
It frisks and flies, now here, now there:
'Tis now far off, and then 'tis near,
CHOR.And here, and there, and every where.
Has it a speaking virtue?
Yes.
How speaks it, say?
Do you but this,
Part your join'd lips, then speaks your kiss;
CHOR.And this Love's sweetest language is.
Has it a body?
Ay, and wings,...

Robert Herrick

To Electra

I dare not ask a kiss,
I dare not beg a smile;
Lest having that, or this,
I might grow proud the while.

No, no, the utmost share
Of my desire shall be,
Only to kiss that air
That lately kissed thee,

Robert Herrick