Thus With A Kiss I Die

When The Mind's Free, The Body's Delicate.

I Heard A Bustling Rumor Like A Fray, And The Wind Blows It From The Capitol.

Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full Of Noises, Sounds, And Sweet Airs, That Give Delight And Hurt Not. Sometimes A Thousand Twangling Instruments Will Hum About Mine Ears; And Sometime Voices, That, If I Then Had Waked After Long Sleep, Will Make Me Sleep Again: And Then, In Dreaming, The Clouds Methought Would Open, And Show Riches Ready To Drop Upon Me; That, When I Waked, I Cried To Dream Again.

And Yet, By Heaven, I Think My Love As Rare As Any She Belied With False Compare.

Now Join Your Hands, And With Your Hands Your Hearts.