The way that lovers use is this;
They bow, catch hands, with never a word,
And their lips meet, and they do kiss,
-- So I have heard.
They queerly find some healing so,
And strange attainment in the touch;
There is a secret lovers know,
-- I have read as much.
And theirs no longer joy nor smart,
Changing or ending, night or day;
But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart,
-- So lovers say.
Rupert Brooke
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