To say of shame - what is it? Of virtue - we can miss it; Of sin-we can kiss it, And it's no longer sin.

And the best and the worst of this is That neither is most to blame, If you have forgotten my kisses And I have forgotten your name.

I will go back to the great sweet mother, Mother and lover of men, the sea. I will go down to her, I and no other, Close with her, kiss her and mix her with me.

A baby's feet, like sea-shells pink Might tempt, should heaven see meet, An angel's lips to kiss, we think, A baby's feet.

I dore not always touch her, lest the kiss Leave my lips charred. Yea, Lord, a little bliss, Brief, bitter bliss, one hath for a great sin; Nathless thou knowest how sweet a thing it is.