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ORDINARY LIPS

In truth, hers are but ordinary lips;
     They have no claim to immortality.
The dance of moonlight on a placid sea
     Their beauty doth but narrowly eclipse.
For softness, I must grant that theirs outstrips
     The finest eiderdown's quite utterly.
Their sweetness, though, doth scarcely seem to me
     Much more than honey's as from comb it drips.

So why should kisses from such lips so move
     My soul to rapture and my heart to flame,
Unless it be the passion that they prove
     So tenderly yet boldly, as they claim
That heart as willing captive to her love,
     And to that soul's devotion pledge the same?