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 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,
Then live with me, and be my love.
(sigh)
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 complain 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 bed 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,
Thy 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.
(sigh)
She lived with him; his love was she,
They loved so much that soon came me;
For simple pleasures, hill and wood,
These ageless treasures changed her mood.
Time drives flocks in, but out as well,
And rocks grow warm and rivers swell;
With each new spring my parents heard
Fresh madrigals from every bird.
In winter books with roses pressed,
‘Til summer brought back posies zest;
His honeyed tongue he proved sincere
In fall and spring each sweetening year.
Cap and kirtle, their gown and shoes
As she predicted they did lose;
But kept with them the memory,
And gave that purer gold to me.
Their minds and hearts my parents shared
Until their souls by love were paired;
These pleasures did my mother move
To stay with him and be his love.
Though age has come and joys are dated
Each loves the other unabated;
For song and dance, delight can move
To live and be another’s love.
Latter Day Sinner 