FROM "THE FOREST" - Ben Jonson

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 ask 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 honoring thee
As giving it a hope that there
It could not whithered 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!