There will we sit upon the rocks,5
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
With a thousand fragrant posies,10
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Imbrodered all with leaves of mirtle;
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Slippers lin'd choicely for the cold;15
With buckles of the purest gold;
A belt of straw, and ivie buds,
With coral clasps, and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Then live with me, and be my love.20
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.
The Nymph's Reply.
If that the World and Love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's toung,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee, and be thy love.
But time drives flocks from field to fold,5
When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb,
And all complain of cares to come.