A Dialogue on a Kisse

Among thy fancies tell me this
What is the thing we call a kiss?
I shall resolve you what it is
It is a creature born and bred
Betwixt the lips all cherry red
By love and warm desires fed
And makes more sweet
And makes more sweet
And makes more sweet the bridal bed
It is an active flame that flies
First to the babies of the eyes
And charms it there with lullabyes
And stills the bride
And stills the bride
And stills the bride too when she cries
Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear
It frisks, it flies, now here, now there
'Tis now far off, and now 'tis near
'Tis here and there
'Tis here and there
'Tis here and there and ev'rywhere
Has it a voicing virtue?
Yes
How speaks it then
Do you but this
Part your join'd lips, then speak the kiss
And this Love's sweet
And this Love's sweet
And this Love's sweetest language is
Has it a body?
Aye, and wings
With thousand various colourings
And as it flies it sweetly sings
Love honey yields but never stings
And as it flies it sweetly sings
Love honey yields but never stings
And as it flies it sweetly sings
Love honey yields but never stings