“O singers, resinous and soft your songs
Above the sacred whisper of the pines,
Give virgin lips to cornfield concubines,
Bring dreams of Christ to dusky cane-lipped throngs.”

“O black and unknown bards of long ago,
How came your lips to touch the sacred fire?
How, in your darkness, did you come to know
The power and beauty of the minstrels' lyre?”

“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again.”

“Shells with lip, or tooth, or bleeding gum,
Tell-tale shells, and shells that whisper 'Come',
Shells that stammer, blush, and yet are dumb – "
"O let me hear!”

“Reaching out to me with your hands and feeling my fingers, i whisper on your lips my infinite desire of you.”

“Perhaps my whisper was already born before my lips.”

“The song was born on her breathe and died at her lips.”

“Waiting the word of the Master,
Watching the Hidden Light;
Listening to his orders In the very midst of the fight; Seeing His slightest signal
Across the heads of the throng;
Hearing His faintest whisper
Above earth's loudest song.”

“Your lips are red
My face is red from reading your red lips”

“All kin' o' smily round the lips,
An' teary round the lashes.”