* "While he, from forth the closet, brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd; With jellies smoother than the creamy curd, And lucent syrups tinct with cinnamon; Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one, From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon.

Perhaps mine lingered the longer, for the color in my cheek was deeper tinct than Scotch, it was the wild bit of Southern blood that had run in her love's veins; when she looked at me, I gave her back hot phases of her passionate youth again,so perhaps mine was the kiss that left the deeper dint.