Sappho — The First Kiss

And down I set the cushion Upon the couch that she Relaxed supine upon it Might give her lips to me As some enamored priestess At Aphrodite's shrine Entranced I bent above her With sense of the divine She had, by nature nubile In years a child, no hint Of any secret knowledge Of passion's least intent Her mouth for immolation Was ripe, and mine the art; And one long kiss of passion Deflowered her virgin heart