Shall
I Compare Thee
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed:
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed.
But thy enternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st;
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee
~William Shakespeare
The
Passionate Sheperd To His Love
Christopher Marlowe
Come live with me and
be my love,
And we will all the
pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves,
hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain
yields.
And we will sit upon
the rocks,
Seeing 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
Embroider'd 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 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.
