This page has been validated.
INCLUSIONS.
I.
OH, wilt thou have my hand, Dear, to lie along in
thine?
As a little stone in a running stream, it seems to
lie and pine!
Now drop the poor pale hand, Dear, . . unfit to
plight with thine.
II.
Oh, wilt thou have my cheek, Dear, drawn closer to
thine own?
My cheek is white, my cheek is worn, by many a
tear run down.
Now leave a little space, Dear, . . lest it should wet
thine own.
III.
Oh, must thou have my soul, Dear, commingled
with thy soul?—
Red grows the cheek, and warm the hand, . . the
part is in the whole! . .
Nor hands nor cheeks keep separate, when soul is
joined to soul.
