Kiss XI Poem by Johannes Secundus

'Some think my kisses too luxurious told,
'Kisses! they say, not known to sires of old:
'But, while entranc'd on thy soft neck I lie,
'And o'er thy lips in tender transport die,
'Shall I then ask, dear Life! perplex'd in vain,
'Why rigid Cynics censure thus my strain?
'Ah, no! thy blandishments so rapt'rous prove,
'That every ravish'd sense is lost in love;
'Blest with those blandishments, divine I seem,
'And all Elysium paints the blissful dream.'
Neæra heard;- then, smiling, instant threw
Around my neck her arm of fairest hue;
And kiss'd me fonder, more voluptuous far,
Than Beauty's Queen e'er kiss'd the God of War:
'What! (cries the nymph) and shall my am'rous bard
'Pedantic wisdom's stern decree regard?
'Thy cause must be at my tribunal tried,
'None but Neæra can the point decide.'