letra de ben jonson - to celia - nigel planer
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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 sup
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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