The Passionate Shepherd To His Love by Christopher Marlowe


Come live with me and be my Love, 
And we will all the pleasures prove 
That 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 falls 
Melodious birds sing madrigals. 

There will I make thee beds of roses 
And a thousand fragrant posies, 
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle 
Embroider’d all with leaves of myrtle. 

A gown made of the finest wool 
Which from our pretty lambs we pull, 
Fair linèd 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 meat 
As precious as the gods do eat, 
Shall on an ivory table be 
Prepared each day for thee and me. 

The shepherd 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.


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