When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past—
For years fleet away with the wings of the dove—
The dearest remembrance will still be the last,
Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.


The First Kiss of Love, st. 7 (1806)


When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past— For years fleet away with the wings of the dove— The dearest remembrance will still be...

When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past— For years fleet away with the wings of the dove— The dearest remembrance will still be...

When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past— For years fleet away with the wings of the dove— The dearest remembrance will still be...

When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past— For years fleet away with the wings of the dove— The dearest remembrance will still be...