Sparrow Hills, by Cecil Maurice Bowra Kisses on the breast, like water from a pitcher! /
Not always, not ceaseless spurts the summer's well. /
Nor shall we raise up the hurdy-gurdy's c...
Sparrow Hills, by Frank Beck A breast kissed wet, as though under a shower! /
But summer streams do not flow forever, /
And we cannot stay on here night after night, /
Raisi...
Sparrow Hills, by A. S. Kline Breasts beneath kisses, as though under a tap! /
Summer’s stream won’t run for ever. /
We can’t pump out the accordion’s roar /
night after nigh...
Sparrow Hills, by Robert Lowell Like water pooling from a pitcher, my mouth on your nipples! /
Not always. The summer well runs dry. /
Not for long the dust of our stamping feet,...