Thursday, 23 October 2014

The Thursday Poem

Potted Flowers with Books IV
Eric Barjot


The Passionate Shepherd to his Love

Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
The valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the 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 shepherds' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning.
If these delights thy mind may move,
The live with me, and be my love.

Christopher Marlowe
(6th February 1564 - 30th May 1593)

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