Thursday, October 30, 2014
The Pashed Shepherd.
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That vallies, groves, hills and fields,
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
That valleys, groves, or hills and fields,
That valleys, groves, or hills or field,
Woods, or steepie mountaines yields.
And all the craggy mountains yield.
And all the steepy mountain yields.
Or woods, and steepy mountains yield.
And we will sit vpon the rockes,
Where we will sit vpon the rockes,
Seeing the shepheards feede their flockes
And see the shepheards feede their flockes
And see the shepheards feede our flockes
By shallow riuers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sings madrigalls.
Melodious birds sing madrigalls.
And I will make thee beds of roses,
There will I make thee beds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant poesies,
And there a thousand fragrant poesies,
A cap of flowers and a kirtle
Imbroydered all with leaves of mirtle.
A gowne made of the finest wooll,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Faire lined slippers for the cold,
Slippers lined choicely for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold :
A belt of straw and iuie buds,
With corall clasps and amber studs.
And if these pleasures may thee moue,
Come live with me and be my loue.
Then live with me and be my loue.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat,
As precious as the Gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be,
Prepar'd each day for thee and me.
The Shepheard swaines shall dance and sing
For thy delights each May-morning ;
For thy delight each May-morning ;
If these delights thy mind may moue,
Then liue with me and be my loue.