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Read this E-book for Free or Buy for only USD1.99! Three thought-provoking, creepy stories to blow your mind!
Showing posts with label sir walter raleigh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sir walter raleigh. Show all posts

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love and The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd

The  first poem is written in 1599 and the second poem, which is a reply to the first is written in 1600.

The Passionate Shepherd to his Love
by: Christopher Marlowe

Come live with me, and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove

That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,

Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

 

And we will sit upon rocks,

Seeing 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,

Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle.

 

A gown made of the finest wool

Which from our pretty lambs we pull,

Fair lined 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.


The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd
by Sir Walter Raleigh

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.

 

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,

When Rivers rage and Rocks grow cold,

And Philomel becometh dumb,

The rest complains of cares to come.

 

The flowers do fade, and 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,

The 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 these delights my mind might move

To live with thee, and be thy love.