Classic Poem

I would have a poet's book,
In a shady summer nook,
Where I could around me look,
As a lover may;
I would have a little hand
In my own; would hold it, and—
Hold it, and—you understand.
That would be my way,
All a summer's day.

I would read a fervent page,
Then explain, a very sage,
All about the poet's rage,
As a lover may;
A modest charge were meet for this,—
Just the brief rubific bliss
Of a not-quite-willing kiss.
That would be my way,
All a summer's day.