Blythsome bridal/The Thirsty Lover

THE THIRSTY LOVER.

DRINK to me only with thine.
And I’ll pledge thee with mine,
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst which in my soul doth rise,
Does 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;
And giving it a hope that there.
It could not wither’d be.

But thou therein did only breathe,
And sent it back to me;
Since when, it looks, and smells, I swear
Not of itself, but thee.