Book XII, Epigram 66: De Phillede

When beauteous Phillis to me all the night,
Had gave her elf in all garbes of delight,
And in the morning I began to sound
What gift were best, of Cosmus sweets a pound,
Or Niceros his Unguents, or of fine
Rich Spanish Wooll eight pound, or Caesar's coyn
Ten yellow boyes: My neck embraced shee,
And with as long a kisse alluring mee
As marriages of Doves are making up,
Phillis desired nought else but a merry Cup.