Jerry's Cruising Poems

Another of the Same Nature, Made Since

Anonymous

Come live with me and be my dear,
And we will revel all the year,
In plains and groves, on hills and dales,
Where fragrant air breeds sweetest gales.

There you shall have the beauteous pine,
The cedar and the spreading vine,
And all the woods to be a screen,
Lest Phoebus kiss my summer's queen.

The seat for your disport shall be
Over some river, in a tree,
Where silver sands and pebbles sing
Eternal ditties with the spring.

There shall you see the nymphs at play,
And how the satyrs spend the day,
The fishes gliding on the sands,
Offering their bellies to your hands.

The birds with heavenly tuned throats
Possess wood-echoes with sweet notes,
Which to your senses will impart
A music to inflame the heart.

Upon the bare and leafless oak
The ring-doves' wooings will provoke
A colder blood than you possess
To play with me and do no less.

In bowers of laurel trimly dight
We will outwear the silent night,
While Flora busy is to spread
Her richest treasure on our bed.

Ten thousand glow-worms shall attend,
And all their sparkling lights shall spend,
All to adorn and beautify
Your lodging with most majesty.

Then in mine arms will I enclose
Lilies' fair mixture with the rose,
Whose nice perfections in love's play
Shall tune me to the highest key.

Thus as we pass the welcome night
In sportful pleasures and delight,
The nimble fairies on the grounds
Shall dance and sing melodious sounds.

If these may serve for to entice
Your presence to love's paradise,
Then come with me and be my dear,
And we will straight begin the year.

This poem was published in England's Helicon in 1600 right after Marlowe's The Passionate Shepherd to His Love and Raleigh's The Nymph's Reply. It was common for poets then to refer to classical Greek and Roman gods and myths and use language now considered archaic. Today's readers may want to know that Phoebus is the sun, Flora is the goddess of flowers, and “trimly dight” means “nicely adorned.”

Click to read The Passionate Shepherd to His Love, by Christopher Marlowe

Click to read The Nymph's Reply, perhaps by Sir Walter Raleigh

Click to read The Bait, by John Donne

Click to read To Phyllis, by Robert Herrick

Click to read The Passionate Sailor to His Love, by Jerry