Begging another, on Colour of Mending the former

For Love's sake, kiss me once again,
I long, and should not beg in vain.
Here's none to spy, or see;
Why do you doubt or stay?
I'll taste as lightly as the bee,
That doth but touch his flower, and flies away.

Once more, and, faith, I will be gone,
Can he that loves ask less than one?
Nay, you may err in this,
And all your bounty wrong:
This could be call'd but half a kiss;
What we're but once to do, we should do long.

I will but mend the last, and tell
Where, how, it would have relish'd well;
Join lip to lip, and try:
Each suck the others breath,
And whilst our tongues perplexed lie,
Let who will think us dead, or wish our death.