ROBERT BROWNING

72 j. In a Gondola

HTHE moth's kiss, first!

• Kiss me as if you made me believe

You were not sure, this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed Its petals up ; so, here and there You brush it, till I grow aware Who wants me, and wide ope I burst.

The bee's kiss, now ! Kiss me as if you enter* d gay My heart at some noonday, A bud that dares not disallow The claim, so all is rendered up, And passively its shattered cup Over your head to sleep I bow.

��724. Meeting at Night

TTHE gray sea and the long black land ;

And the yellow half-moon large and low ; And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach ; Three fields to cross till a farm appears ; A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, thro* its joys and fears, Than the two hearts beating each to each !

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