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(Date Posted:12/05/2005 04:47:43)
Gentlemen, farewell. If I live 'til morning, I'll visityou, if not, Faustus is gone to hell.The Passionate Shepherd to His LoveCome live with me and be my love,And we will all the pleasures proveThat hills and valleys, dale and field,And all the craggy mountains yield.There will we sit upon the rocks,And see the shepherds feed their flocks,By shallow rivers to whose fallsMelodious birds sing madrigals.There I will make thee beds of rosesAnd a thousand fragrant posies,A cap of flowers, and a kirtleEmbroider'd all with leaves of myrtle;A gown made of the finest woolWhich from our pretty lambs we pull;Fair lin? 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.Thy silver dishes for thy meatAs precious as the gods do eat,Shall on an ivory table bePrepared each day for thee and me.The shepherd swains shall dance and singFor thy delight each May-morning:If these delights thy mind may move,Then live with me and be my love.Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593)
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