FastSaying
The falcon and the dove sit there together, And th' one of them doth prune the other's feather.
Michael Drayton
Falcons
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My falcon now is sharp and passing empty, And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged, For then she never looks upon her lure.
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On Tuesday last A falcon, now tow'ring in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawked at and killed.
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Say, will the falcon, stooping from above, Smit with her varying plumage, spare the dove? Admires the jay the insect's gilded wings? Or hears the hawk when Philomela sings?
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Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part.
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Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves.
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Kisses