The way that lovers use is this;
   They bow, catch hands, with never a word,
And their lips meet, and they do kiss,
   -- So I have heard.

They queerly find some healing so,
   And strange attainment in the touch;
There is a secret lovers know,
   -- I have read as much.

And theirs no longer joy nor smart,
   Changing or ending, night or day;
But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart,
   -- So lovers say.

Rupert Brooke, 1913

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