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returning to online poetry, a nomadic journey
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prose on poetry Today, @lizardking posted a poem he wrote to 'cecelia.' This reminded me of one of my favourite poems of my childhood: 'Song to Celia' by Ben Jonson. I suppose his poems are now in the public domain, so I am quoting it here:
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.
'
