To my dear stoned;
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
Or pledge with high pitched whine;
Or leave a ban but in the chat,
And I’ll not look for thine.
The /thirst that from blackname doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of your tears sup,
I would not change for time.
I sent thee late a posey wreath,
Not so much honouring thee
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not leverbanned be.
But thou thereon didst only heave,
And sigh'd it back to me;
Since when it 404's, and DC's, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.