Explore "To M. s. G" by Lord Byron on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Whene'er I view those lips of thine, / Their hue invites my fervent kiss; / Yet, I forego that bliss divine, / Alas! it were-unhallow'd bliss.
Whene'er I dream of that pure breast, / How could I dwell upon its snows! / Yet, is the daring wish represt, / For that,-would banish its repose.