Stolen Pleasure
She spawled on the border;
Of drunken disorder,
Slumbering deep;
The watch was asleep.
Seeing her lie there
So close, I drew night there
As a friend might approach
A petiton to broach.
Silently creeping
Like slube (she's sleeping)
Climbing came i
As soft as a sigh,
Kisses to tender
Her troat white and slendr,
Sweetly to sip
The dark wine of her lip.
I tasted at last
A nightful of pleasure,
Till the lawn
Flashed the laughter of dawn