The
Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd
by Sir
Walter Ralegh
|
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 complains 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 beds 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.
|
Sir Walter Ralegh |
Classic
Poems |
|
|