Drink to me only with thine eyes
And I will pledge with mine
Or leave a kiss within the cup
And I'll not ask 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 hon'ring thee
As giving it a hope that there
It could not withered be
But thou thereon did only breathe
And sent'st it back to me
Since when it grows and smells I swear
Not of itself but thee
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine
Drink to me only with thine eyes
And I will pledge with mine