Ambrosiac

I reliſh not theſe philoſophicall feaſts; / Giue me a banquet o’ ſenſe, like that of Ovid: / A forme, to take the eye; a voyce, mine eare; / Pure aromatiques, to my ſent; a ſoft, / Smooth, deinty hand, to touch; and, for my taſte, / Ambroſiack kiſſes, to melt downe the palat.