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,
Embroider'd 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 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.
[317]: William Warner.
[318]: Michel Drayton.
With that she bent her snow-white knee,
Down by the shepherd kneel'd she,
And him she sweetly kist.
With that the shepherd whoop'd for joy;
Quoth he: "There's never shepherd boy
That ever was so blist."
(Michel Drayton.)