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THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE
Christopher Marlowe (1563 - 1593)
THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD
Sir Walter Raleigh (1554 - 1618)
I know that these two poems about love are a little late for Valentine's Day. But I could not resist honoring the event with this 405-year-old exchange between these great Elizabethan poets.
In Marlowe's famous love poem, written in 1599, the shepherd promises "beds of roses" to the object of his affection, if she will join him in the pastoral world of earthly pleasure. Raleigh's nymph, one year later, replies that she might take the lad up on the offer "if all the world and love were young, and truth in every shepherd's tongue." But she notes that time dulls such pleasures; that "wayward winter" inevitably brings a time of reckoning; that women can be hurt by men, as evidenced by the terrible fate of Philomela; and that a "honey tongue" can create sorrow as well as happiness.
Given the length of these verses, I will forego the temptation to discuss these two extraordinary poets. I'll do that the next time they appear in these pages. In the meantime, I hope you had a wonderful, romantic Valentine's Day, and that these poems will help to extend the mood.
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The Passionate Shepherd To His Love
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
And all the craggy mountains yields.
There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see 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
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair-linèd 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.
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The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd
If all 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.
Time drives the flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complain of cares to come.
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.
Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy bed 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,
Thy 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.
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