Роберт Геррик (Херрик) (Robert Herrick)

To the Water-Nymphs Drinking at the Fountain

Reach with your whiter hands to me
Some crystal of the spring;
And I about the cup shall see
Fresh lilies flourishing.

Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this—
To th' glass your lips incline;
And I shall see by that one kiss
The water turn'd to wine.