Kissing Her Hair

Kissing her hair, I sat against her feet:

Wove and unwove it,- wound, and found it sweet;

Made fast there with her hands, drew down her eyes,

Deep as deep flowers, and dreamy like dim skies;

With her own tresses bound, and found her fair,-

Kissing her hair.

~

Sleep were no sweeter than her face to me,-

Sleep of cold sea-bloom under the cold sea:

What pain could get between my face and hers?

What new sweet thing would love not relish worse?

Unless, perhaps, white Death had kissed me there,-

Kissing her hair.

~

Algernon Charles Swinburne

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Here is your romantic one Nory love!