XIX THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. Come live with me, and be my love, And we will sit upon the rocks, And I will make thee beds of roses, A gown made of the finest wool, 5 ΙΟ 15 A belt of straw and ivy-buds, With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, 20 Thy silver dishes for thy meat, Shall, on an ivory table, be Prepared each day for thee and me. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing Come live with me, and be my love. Christopher Marlowe. 25 XX THE ANSWER. If all the world and Love were young, Time drives the flocks from field to fold, The flowers do fade, and wanton fields Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy bed of roses, Thy belt of straw and ivy-buds, All these in me no means can move, What should we talk of dainties then, 5 10 15 20 Which God hath blessed and sent for food. But could youth last, and love still breed, 25 Anon. XXI SAMELA. Like to Diana in her summer weed, Girt with a crimson robe of brightest dye, Goes fair Samela; Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed, As fair Aurora in her morning grey, Like lovely Thetis on a calmèd day, Whenas her brightness Neptune's fancy move, Shines fair Samela; Her tresses gold, her eyes like glassy streams, Of fair Samela; Her cheeks like rose and lily yield forth gleams, Thus fair Samela Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue, And Juno in the show of majesty, Pallas in wit, all For she's Samela: three, if you will view, For beauty, wit, and matchless dignity Yield to Samela. Robert Greene. XXII SILENT MUSIC. Rose-cheeked Laura, come! Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty's Silent music, either other Sweetly gracing. 5 ΙΟ 15 20 5 Lovely forms do flow From concent divinely framed, Heaven is music, and thy beauty's Birth is heavenly. These dull notes we sing Discords need for helps to grace them; Only beauty purely loving Knows no discord; But still moves delight, Like clear springs renewed by flowing, Ever perfect, ever in them selves eternal. ΙΟ 15 Thomas Campion. XXIII TRIUMPH OF CHARIS. See the chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dove, And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty Unto her beauty, And enamoured do wish, so they might But enjoy such a sight, That they still were to run by her side, 5 Through swords, through seas, whither she would ride. 10 Do but look on her eyes, they do light Than words that soothe her! 15 And from her arched brows, such a grace As alone there triumphs to the life All the gain, all the good of the elements' strife. Have you seen but a bright lily grow, Before rude hands have touched it? Or swan's down ever? Or have smelt o' the bud of the briar? Or the nard in the fire? Or have tasted the bag o' the bee? O so white! O so soft! O so sweet is she! XXIV 25 30 Ben Jonson. A BRIDAL SONG Roses, their sharp spines being gone, Maiden-pinks, of odour faint; Primrose, first-born child of Ver, Oxlips in their cradles growing, ΙΟ པ་ 20 |