SONG TO CELIA

 Drink to me only with thane eyes,

     And I will pledge with mine;

Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

    And I’ll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise

     Doth ask a drink divine,

       But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,

     I would not change for thins.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,

  Not so much honouring thee

As giving it a hope, that there

     It could not withered be.

But thou thereon didst only breathe,

     And scent’s it back to me;

Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,

     Not of itself, but thee.

               by:  Ben Jonson 

         

  Drink to me only with thane eyes,

     And I will pledge with mine;

Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

    And I’ll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise

     Doth ask a drink divine;

Drink  to me only with thane eyes,

        And I will pledge with mine,

Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

        And I’ll not look for wine.

 The thirst from the soul doth rise

       Doth ask a drink divine;

But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,

     I would not change for thins.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,

     Not so much honouring thee

As giving it a hope, that there

     It could not withered be.

But thou thereon didst only breathe,

     And scent’s it back to me;

Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,

     Not of itself, but thee.

               by:  Ben Jonson