Softly I stoop those lips to kiss, That oft have thrilled with rapturous love, But they are cold and motionless, No power again can make them move.
The last farewell caress is o’er, E’en that cold touch is now denied; A grief, like waves on barren shore, Sweeps over me, an endless tide.
And so the bereaved one gives way to his sad thoughts and recognizes the fact that he must struggle on alone. But while his tearless eyes with madness shine he feels the arms of his baby child stealing round his neck and the baby lips laid against his own.
My bonds are loosed; I press the child Against my breast while fall the tears; Beyond the throes of passion wild A ray of living hope appears.
Sweet child, thy mother’s very soul Was in that kiss. Through worldly strife Perchance men find a Heavenly goal, A purer love in death than life.
There is another anonymous fugitive poem also entitled “Three Kisses.” The first of the three is “sacred unto pain,” and on account of the many times the twain had hurt each other. The second kiss is full of joy’s sweet thrill.
We have helped each other always, We always will. We shall reach until we feel each other, Beyond all time and space; We shall listen until we hear each other In every place; The earth is full of messengers Which love sends to and fro; I kiss thee, darling, for all joy Which we shall know!
The last kiss is given with the remembrance that they may die and never see each other.
Die with no time to give Any sign that our hearts are faithful To die as live. Token of what they will not see Who see our parting breath, This one last kiss my darling seals The seal of death.
A poetical apostrophe to the benefit of a wife’s kiss is entitled “Angel food”;
“Give me a kiss, ’twill cure the pain and ache Of the long day of weariness and toil; Like summer sunshine all life’s shadows make, My burdens lighter, and my sins assoil.”
So every day he lived on angel’s-food; Made strong and valiant by her wifely kiss; To bravely put aside temptations rude, Yet knew not whence his armor came, I wis,
Nor knows he now, albeit she is gone, But lives his life in brave and saintly mood— The kisses which he grew and strengthened on, Are still to him his daily angel-food.