Poem: First Time He Kissed Me

This is a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Sonnets from the Portuguese,

Number 38.

First time he kissed me,

He but only kissed.

First time he kissed me,

He but only kissed the fingers of this hand wherewith I write.

And ever since it grew more clean and white,

Slow to world greetings,

Quick with its own list when the angels speak.

A ring of amethyst I could not wear here,

Plainer to my sight than that first kiss.

The second passed in height,

The first,

And sought the forehead,

And half missed,

Half falling on the hair.

Oh,

Beyond mead!

That was the chrism of love,

Which love's own crown,

With sanctifying sweetness did proceed.

The third,

Upon my lips,

Was folded down in perfect purple state,

Since when indeed I have been proud and said,

My love,

My own.