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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348482" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348482" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">SHE has tender eyes that tell <br> All her prim, set lips suppress— <br> Daring thoughts that ever dwell <br> Prisoned in her bashfulness; <br> Hints of sudden tenderness <br> That within her breast rebel. <br> Till her bosom's fall and swell <br> Tell her meaning all too well, <br> To her heart's demure distress. <br> She has soft, smooth cheeks that flame <br> As she nestles close, so close, <br> With the new half-joy, half-shame, <br> That within her bosom glows, <br> And each fevered feature shows. <br> Her hot pulses beat acclaim <br> Of the hopes she dare not tame, <br> Fervid thoughts she cannot name— <br> Till I kiss her, and she knows. <br> She has clinging arms of white, <br> Little hands and fingers fine, <br> And she holds me tight, so tight; <br> While her eager arms entwine <br> Deep I drink her kisses' wine. <br> Hush! I feel through all her slight, <br> Trembling figure love's delight, <br> And she knows that all is right, <br> And her bosom beats with mine.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Arthur+Henry+Adams">Arthur Henry Adams</a></strong></div>

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