George Wither (11 June 1588 – 2 May 1667 / Bentworth, Hampshire)
A Sonnet Upon a Stolen Kiss
Now gentle sleep hath clos'd up those eyes
Which waking kept my boldest thoughts in awe,
And free access unto that sweet lip lies,
From whence I long the rosy breath to draw;
Methinks no wrong it were if I should steal
From those two melting rubies one poor kiss;
None sees the theft that would the thief reveal,
Nor rob I her of aught which she can miss;
Nay, should I twenty kisses take away,
There would be little sign I had done so;
Why then should I this robbery delay?
Oh! she may wake and therewith angry grow.
Well, if she do, I'll back restore that one,
And twenty hundred thousand more for loan.
George Wither's Other Poems
- A Christmas Carol
- A Poet's Home
- A Rocking Hymn
- A Sonnet Upon a Stolen Kiss
- A Widow's Hymn
- Amarillis I Did Woo
- For Anniversary Marriage-Days
- From A Satire Written To King James I
- Her Beauty
- I Loved a Lass
- Lilies Without, Lilies Within
- Lord! When Those Glorious Lights I See
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