To Celia

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 5 
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 10 
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 15 
Not of itself but thee! 

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...