Drink to me only with thine eyes and I will pledge with thine eyes that I will love thee
and mine, or leave a kiss within the cup and I'll not ask for wine.
The first 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 it back to me.
Since when it grows and smells, I swear, not of itself but thee.
