Poem of the day

To Celia
by Ben Jonson (1572-1637)

Drink to me only with thine 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 thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
⁠   Not so much honouring thee
As giving it a hope that there
⁠   It could not wither’d be;
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
⁠   And sent’st it back to me;
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
⁠   Not of itself but thee!

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