Melodious birds sing Madrigals. And truth in every Shepherd’s tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move, And I will make thee beds of Roses To live with thee, and be thy love. And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Time drives the flocks from field to fold, Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle; When Rivers rage and Rocks grow cold, And becometh dumb, Philomel A gown made of the finest wool The rest complains of to come. Which from our pretty Lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, The flowers do fade, and wanton fields, With buckles of the purest gold; To wayward winter reckoning yields, A tongue, a heart of gall, A belt of straw and Ivy buds, Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall. With Coral clasps and Amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Thy thy shoes, thy beds of Roses, Come live with me, and be my love. Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten: The Shepherds’ Swains shall dance and sing In folly ripe, in reason rotten. For thy delight each May-morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Thy belt of straw and Ivy buds, Then live with me, and be my love. The Coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee and be thy love. The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd by Sir But could youth last, and love still breed, Walter Raleigh Had joys no date, nor age no need, Then these delights my mind might move If all the and love were young, To live with thee, and be thy love. The 17th Century: Background Information Literary Movement(s)
Melodious birds sing Madrigals. And I will make thee beds of Roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered 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 Shepherds’ 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 to the Shepherd by Sir Walter Raleigh If all the 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. Time drives the flocks from field to fold, When Rivers rage and Rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb, The rest complains of to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields, To wayward winter reckoning yields, A tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall. Thy thy shoes, thy beds of Roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten: In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and Ivy buds, The Coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee and be thy love. But could youth last, and love still breed, Had joys no date, nor age no need, Then these delights my mind might move To live with thee, and be thy love. The 17th Century: Background Information Literary Movement(s)
BritishPoetryResearchPacket2016.docx.docx