Part 44

The birds with heavenly tunËd throats Possess woods' echoes with sweet notes, Which to your senses will impart A music to enflame 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 out-wear the silent night, While Flora busy is to spread Her richest treasure on our bed.

Ten thousand glow-worms shall attend, And all these 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 perfection 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 then begin the year.

The following verses in imitation of Marlowe are by Donne:--

THE BAIT.

Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasure prove Of golden sands and christal brooks With silken lines and silver hooks.

There will the river whispering run, Warm'd by thine eyes more than the sun; And there th' enamoured fish will stay Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt swim in that live bath, Each fish which every channel hath Will amorously to thee swim, Gladder to catch thee than thou him.

If thou to be so seen beest loath By sun or moon, thou darkenest both; And if my self have leave to see, I heed not their light, having thee.

Let others freeze with angling reeds And cut their legs with shells and weeds, Or treacherously poor fish beset With strangling snare or winding net.

Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest The bedded fish in banks outwrest, Or curious traitors, sleave-silk flies, Bewitch poor fishes' wandering eyes.

For thee, thou need'st no such deceit, For thou thyself art thine own bait: That fish that is not catched thereby, Alas, is wiser far than I.

Herrick has a pastoral invitation

TO PHILLIS TO LOVE AND LIVE WITH HIM.

Live, live with me, and thou shalt see The pleasures I'll prepare for thee; What sweets the country can afford Shall bless thy bed and bless thy board.

The soft sweet moss shall be thy bed With crawling woodbine overspread: By which the silver-shedding streams Shall gently melt thee into dreams.

Thy clothing next shall be a gown Made of the fleeces' purest down. The tongues of kids shall be thy meat; Their milk thy drink; and thou shall eat

The paste of filberts for thy bread, With cream of cowslips buttered. Thy feasting-tables shall be hills With daisies spread and daffodils;

Where thou shalt sit, and red-breast by For meat shall give thee melody. I'll give thee chains and carcanets Of primroses and violets.

A bag and bottle thou shalt have, That richly wrought and this as brave, So that as either shall express The wearer's no mean shepherdess.

At shearing-times and yearly wakes, When Themilis his pastime makes, There thou shalt be; and be the wit, Nay more, the feast and grace of it.

On holidays when virgins meet To dance the hays with nimble feet, Thou shalt come forth and then appear The queen of roses for that year;

And having danced ('bove all the best) Carry the garland from the rest. In wicker-baskets maids shall bring To thee, my dearest shepherdling,

The blushing apple, bashful pear, And shame-faced plum all simp'ring there: Walk in the groves and thou shalt find The name of Phillis in the rind