Soft kisses may be innocent; But ah! too easy maid, beware; Tho’ that is all thy kindness meant, ’Tis love’s delusive, fatal snare. No virgin e’er at first design’d Thro’ all the maze of love to stray; But each new path allures her mind, Till wandering on, she lose her way. ’Tis easy ere set out to stay; But who the useful art can teach, When sliding down a steepy way, To stop, before the end we reach? Keep ever something in thy power, Beyond what would thy honour stain: He will not dare to aim at more, Who for small favours sighs in vain.
Catharine Trotter Cockburn (1679-1749)
Soft kisses,
love’s delusive, fatal snare
(reimagining by Prontabard – 2022)