Song: To Celia

¹Drink to me only with thine eyes,

²And I will pledge with mine;

³Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

⁴And I'll not look for wine.

⁵The thirst that from the soul doth rise

⁶Doth ask a drink divine;

⁷But might I of Jove's nectar sup,

⁸I would not change for thine.

⁹I sent thee late a rosy wreath,

¹⁰Not so much honouring thee

¹¹As giving it a hope, that there

¹²It could not withered be.

¹³But thou thereon didst only breathe,

¹⁴And sent'st it back to me;

¹⁵Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,

¹⁶Not of itself, but thee.