Vinum Vine

|Saturday| Ben Jonson

Posted in Vinum Vine by Vinum Vine on May 2, 2015

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 sip,
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 withered 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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