For the Poughkeepsie Advertiser.
The Shepherd's Address to the Milk Maid.
It is generally supposed that this song was
written by Shakespeare. [Actually, Christopher Marlowe.]
The Milk Maid's answer wrote by Sir Walter Raleigh,
will be in the next number of this paper.
COME live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, or hills, or field,
Or woods, and steepy mountains yield.
Where we will sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed our flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls,
Melodious birds sing Madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses,
And then a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kertle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Slippers lin'd choicely 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 silver dishes for thy meat,
As precious as the Gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepar'd 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.