Roses red, lilies white,
And the clear damask hue, Shall on your cheeks alight:
Love will adorn you.
All you that love or loved before,
The fairy-queen Proserpina
Bids you increase that loving humour more :
They that have not fed
On delight amorous
She vows that they shall lead
Apes in Avernus.
T. Campion.
All ye that lovely lovers be
Pray you for me:
Lo here we come a-sowing, a-sowing,
And sow sweet fruits of love ;
In your sweet hearts well may it prove !
Lo here we come a-reaping, a-reaping,
To reap our harvest fruit !
And thus we pass the year so long,
And never be we mute.
Geo. Peele.
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO
HIS LOVE Come live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dales and fields, Or woods or steepy mountain yields. And we will sit upon the rocks, And see the shepherds feed their flocks By shallow rivers to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies; A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle. A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair-linèd slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold. A belt of straw and ivy-buds With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my Love. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my Love.
C. Marlowe.
HER REPLY
If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy Love.
But Time drives flocks from field to fold;
Where rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb,
The rest complains of cares to come.
The flowers do fade, the wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields :
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring but sorrow's fall.
Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither—soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.
Thy belt of straw and ivy-buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,-
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy Love.
But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need,
Then those delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy Love.
Sir W. Raleigh.
UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE
AMIENs sings:
Under the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
JAQUEs replies :
If it do come to pass
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease
A stubborn will to please,
Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame :
Here shall he see
Gross fools as he,
An if he will come to me.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude ;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh ho ! sing, heigh ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh ho, the holly:
This life is most jolly.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not.
Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! unto the green holly :
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh ho, the holly !
This life is most jolly.
Shakespeare,
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