A VENTURE
Reading edition
Her mouth looks like a scarlet flower And I feel like a hungry bee, I long to dart straight to its heart, But—what would be the fate of me? The bravest ’tis should win the prize, And yet I dare not risk her scorn, And who but knows the reddest rose May hide the very sharpest thorn? Yet who can tell but she might yield Its sweetness up in one long kiss? So I, who dare not risk her scorn, Can risk still less to lose such bliss. And when she feels my parchèd lips Athirst with long long years of drouth, She will forgive me, that I sought That dewy chalice, her sweet mouth.