A Poem for a Thursday #237

Ben Jonson is one of the best-known writers of the English Renaissance. He wrote many plays but he is also known for his poetry. I am sure you know who he is even if you aren’t aware of the fact because the first line of the poem I am featuring is so famous. I picked it because my daughter’s name is Celia.

Drinke to me, onely, with thine eyes,
     And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kisse but in the cup,
     And Ile not looke for wine.
The thirst, that from the soule doth rise,
     Dothe aske a drinke divine:
But might I of Jove's Nectar sup,
     I would not change for thine.
I sent thee, late, a rosie wreath,
     Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
     It could not withered bee.
But thou thereon did'st onely breath,
     And sent'st it back to mee:
Since when it growes, and smells,  I sweare,
     Not of it selfe, but thee.

Song to Celia
Ben Jonson