Rupert Brooke (1887–1915). Collected Poems. 1916.
VI. Other Poems9. The Way That Lovers Use
T
They bow, catch hands, with never a word,
And their lips meet, and they do kiss,
—So I have heard.
And strange attainment in the touch;
There is a secret lovers know,
—I have read as much.
Changing or ending, night or day;
But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart,
—So lovers say.