Astrophil and Stella, Sonnet 79

Sweet kiss, thy sweets I fain would sweetly indite,
      Which even of sweetness sweetest sweet’ner art:
      Pleasing’st consort, where each sense holds a part;
Which, coupling doves, guides Venus’ chariot right;
Best charge, and bravest retreat in Cupid’s fight,
      A double key, which opens to the heart,
      Most rich, when most his riches it impart;
Nest of young joys, schoolmaster of delight,
      Teaching the mean at once to take and give;
The friendly fray, where blows both wound and heal;
The pretty death, while each in other live;
Poor hope’s first wealth, hostage of promised weal,
      Breakfast of love: but lo! Lo, where she is:
      Cease we to praise; now pray we for a kiss.