THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE.

S. Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields.

P. If that 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.

S.

And we will sit upon the rocks,

Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,

By shallow rivers, to whose falls

Melodious birds sing madrigals.

P. But time drives flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,

And Philomel becometh dumb,

And all complain of cares to come.

SI QUA TUI CORYDONIS HABET TE CURA,

VENITO.

S.

P.

S.

P.

SILVIUS. PHOEBE.

Sis consors mea, sis amor,

tecum quidquid agri deliciarum habent,

valles et iuga montium,

quidquid silva, libens experiar comes.

si tellus nova, si foret

intemptatus amor, certa proci fides,

vellem fors tibi credula

vitaeque et thalami degere particeps.

inter saxa sedentibus

pascant ut pueri cernere erit greges
rivorum ad vada iugium,

concordes resonant quis avium modi.

sit frigus modo rupibus,

rivo sit rabies, mutat ovilibus

grex campos, tacet Atthidis,

et vox una sonat dura paventium.

S. 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.

P. 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.

S. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning,
If these delights thy mind may move
To live with me and be my love.

P. But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date nor age no need,

Then those delights my mind might move

To live with thee and be thy love.

MARLOWE. RALEIGH.

S.

P.

S.

P.

hic ibis cubitum in rosis,

hic omnis tibi erit copia narium,

cingam flore caput, latus

stringent texta comis cingula myrteis.

flos marcescet, honoribus

rus multabit hiemps improba, melleis

vernet blanditiis amor,

fel si corde latet, tristis erit seges.

Mai quotquot eunt dies,

pastorum ad numerum crura moventium

delectabere cantibus,

his si mota Venus nostra dabis manus.

si mansurus amor foret,

si nec vita fugax nec breve gaudium,

si nullius egens anus,

exorata Venus fors tua viverem.

TO THE REV. F. D. MAURICE.

Come, when no graver cares employ,
Godfather, come and see your boy:

Your presence will be sun in winter,
Making the little one leap for joy.

For being of that honest few,

Who give the Fiend himself his due,

Should eighty thousand college-councils

Thunder Anathema,' friend, at you;

Should all our churchmen foam in spite
At you, so careful of the right,

Yet one lay-hearth would give you welcome, (Take it and come) to the Isle of Wight;

Where far from noise and smoke of town,

I watch the twilight falling brown

All round a careless-ordered garden Close to the ridge of a noble down.