Thursday, February 23, 2012

To Celia

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

2 comments:

  1. Recently, I covered this poem with my Brit Lit class. I wasn't surprised that few students already knew the words, but I was disappointed that none of the students knew the traditional tune that goes with those words. That tune was one of the first that I learned to play on the piano. Maybe piano method books no longer include that tune?

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  2. Hey, it was the first song that Johnny Cash ever sang in public, also. But who studies music anymore. The quadrivium has passed from 'style'.

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