Now gentle sleep hath closèd up those eyes, <br />Which waking kept my boldest thoughts in awe, <br />And free access unto that sweet lip lies <br />From whence I long the rosy breath to draw. <br />Methinks no wrong it were if I should steal, <br />From those two melting rubies, one poor kiss. <br />None sees the theft that would the thief reveal, <br />Nor rob I her of aught which she can miss. <br />Nay, should I twenty kisses take away, <br />There would be little sign I had done so. <br />Why then should I this robbery delay? <br />Oh, she may wake, and therewith angry grow. <br />Well, if she do, I'll back restore that one, <br />And twenty hundred thousand more for loan.<br /><br />George Wither<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-on-a-stolen-kiss/
