My lips have tasted
Ember sweet
That kissed me kneeled
At angel's feet;
Yet at this momement,
I must think
Your mouth be mine
Prefer'd drink.
Though white-hot coal
Did leave its mark
In me, your lips
Ignite a spark
That I cannot
Control or tame;
Hence cannot me
Be found to blame.
Yet spoil'd I fast
Lurch away:
To save the mourh
With which I pray!
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