Give me fond kisses. " Nay, how many more?"
You ask? Ah, count the ripples of the seas,
The myriad shells that strew the ocean's shore,
Fare to Hymettus' hill and tell the bees,
What time, unhoped for, Caesar meets her view
The plaudits of all Rome, canst reckon these?
What Lesbia gave her bard should not appease
My thirst. Who numbers kisses needs but few.