For the tenth time, dull Daphnis, said Chloe, You have told me my bosom is
snowy; You've made much fine verse on each part of my person, Now DO something
I hold your hand in mine, dear, I press it to my lip
I take a healthy bite from your dainty fingertips,
My joy would be complete, dear, if you were only here,
But still I keep your hand as a precious souvenir....