Rupert Brooke (1887–1915). Collected Poems. 1916.
VI. Other Poems9. The Way That Lovers Use
T
They bow, catch hands, with never a word,
And their lips meet, and they do kiss,
—So I have heard.
And strange attainment in the touch; There is a secret lovers know, —I have read as much. Changing or ending, night or day; But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart, —So lovers say.