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a kiss, op. 15 - ian venables lyrics

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by a wall the stranger now calls his
was born of old a particular kiss
without forethought in its genesis;
which in a trice took wing on the air
and where that spot is nothing shows:
there ivy calmly grows
and no one knows
what a birth was there!

that kiss is gone where none can tell –
not even those who felt its spell:
it cannot have died; that know we well
somewhere it pursues its flight
one of a long procession of sounds
travelling aethereal rounds
far from earth’s bounds
in the infinite

- ian venables lyrics

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