The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
by Christopher Marlowe
Come experience me and be my love,
And we will all of the pleasures show
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields
Woods or perhaps steepy hill yields
And we'll sit upon the rubble,
Seeing the shepherds feed their particular flocks
By shallow rivers to whose is catagorized
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And i also will make thee beds of roses
And 1000 fragrant posies,
A cap of flower, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made from the finest constructed from wool
Which will from our fairly lambs all of us pull;
Fair layered slippers pertaining to the frosty
With buckles in the purest platinum;
A belt of hay and flowers buds,
With coral formations clasps and amber buttons;
And if these joys may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.
The shepherds' swains shall boogie and sing
To get thy joy each May possibly morning:
If these delights thy mind might move,
Then live with me and be my love. The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd by Sir Walter Raleigh
In the event that all the world and take pleasure in were fresh,
And truth in every single shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy like.
Time hard drives the flocks from discipline to flip,
When ever rivers rage and stones grow cool;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest mention cares to come.
The flowers perform fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter months reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is definitely fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy bed of roses,
Thy limit, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon die, soon overlooked,
In folly fresh, in cause rotten.
Thy belt of straw and ivy pals,
Thy coral clasps and ruby studs,
All these in me zero means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.
But could junior last and love still breed,
Had pleasures no day nor era no need,
Then these types of delights my mind might maneuver
To have with the and be thy love.