Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes - Duke Special, Neil Hannon

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 ask 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

Not of itself, but thee