I Kissed You
[Parody on yesterday's poem, You Kissed Me]
I kissed you, I own, but I did not suppose
That you, through the papers, the deed would disclose,
Like free-loving cats, when on ridgepoles they meet --
When their squalls of "You kissed me!" disturb the whole street.
I kissed you. The impulse as suddenly came
As that cold-looking cloud is transformed into flame;
My act was the lightning that glances and thrills,
And yours the loud thunder that blabs to the hills.
I kissed you. As kissed the poor Cyprian boy
In dreams, his Diana, so cold and so coy,
And foolishly fancied -- encircling your charms --
A maid -- not a matchbox -- was clasped in my arms.
I kissed you. The zephyr on tiptoe passed by,
The moon with a kerchief cloud hid her soft eye;
From the bough that swayed o'er us, all silvered with dew,
With a half-smothered titter the katydid flew.
I kissed you. All nature to counterfeit sleep,
Half promised our secret so sacred to keep;
No ubiquitous press correspondent peeped through
The leaves. I was "interviewed" only by you.
I kissed you. Then, scared at my boldness, I deemed
You had fainted, or else you would surely have screamed:
But no, you not only all censure forebore,
But, like Oliver Twist, are now asking for "more."
I kissed you. All others may do it who choose,
But I to repeat the performance refuse.
On your lips I will never again print a smack;
By the press or by note, you may send that one back.
I kissed you. The poetess Sappho of old,
Like you, was so warm that her Pharon grew cold;
So she ended her love and her life in a pet --
I presume there are equal facilities yet.