Drink to me only with thine eyes,
and I will pledge with mine;
or leave a kiss within the cup,
and 1'11 not ask for wine;
the thirst that from the soul doth rise,
doth ask a drink divine;
but might I of love'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.