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She throws a kiss, and bids me run
In whispers sweet as roses’ breath;
I know I can not win the race,
And at the end, I know, is death.
--
Atalanta’s Race.

 

Maurice Thompson

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To the last moment of his breath
On hope the wretch relies;
And e'en the pang preceding death
Bids expectation rise.

 

Oliver Goldsmith

 

Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses?
How soft is this one, how subtle this is,
How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is,
As a bird that taps at a leafy lattice;
How this one clings and how that uncloses
From bud to flower in the way of roses.

 

Arthur Symons

 

True love cannot be changed,
Though delight from desert
Be estranged.
Farewell, farewell
But yet or ere I part (O cruel),
Kiss me sweet, kiss me sweet my jewel.

 

John Dowland

 

Oh dear and laughing, lost to me,
Hidden in grey Eternity,
I shall attain, with burning feet,
To you and to the mercy-seat!
The ages crumble down like dust,
Dark roses, deviously thrust
And scattered in sweet wine — but I,
I shall lift up to you my cry,
And kiss your wet lips presently
Beneath the ever-living Tree.

 

Stephen Vincent Benet

 

There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream,
And the nightingale sings round it all the day long;
In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream,
To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.

 

Thomas Moore