And if these pleasures may thee move, Thy silver dishes for thy meat Prepared each day for thee and me. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE TO HIS LOVE WHEN in the chronicle of wasted time Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have exprest Ev'n such a beauty as you master now. So all their praises are but prophecies And, for they look'd but with divining eyes, They had not skill enough your worth to sing: Greensleeves now farewell! adieu! God I pray to prosper thee! Greensleeves was my heart of gold! And who but my Lady Greensleeves! ANONYMOUS THE BANKS O' DOON YE flowery banks o' bonie Doon, Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough: Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause Luve was true! Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, Aft hae I roved by bonie Doon And sae did I o' mine. |