Love Perfumes All Parts.

A poem by Robert Herrick

If I kiss Anthea's breast,
There I smell the ph[oe]nix nest:
If her lip, the most sincere
Altar of incense I smell there -
Hands, and thighs, and legs are all
Richly aromatical.
Goddess Isis can't transfer
Musks and ambers more from her:
Nor can Juno sweeter be,
When she lies with Jove, than she.

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