Ere I could Give him that parting kiss, which I had set Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father, And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north, Shakes all our buds from growing. Shakespeare.Cymbeline, Act I. Scene 4. (Imogen to Pisanio.)
While now her bending neck she plies Backward to meet the burning kiss, Then with an easy cruelty denies, Yet wishes you would snatch, not ask the bliss. Francis Horace, Ode XII. Line 25.