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Shuja.
This is one of the poems I like most.
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 honoring thee, As giving it a hope, that there It could not wither'd 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. {Ben Johnson}
Source: The Songs and Poems of Ben Jonson. London: Philip Allan & Co., 1924. 62.
Nature at its best |
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I am thinking about you !!Believe me!! |
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