Poetry of Raleigh
Sir Walter Raleigh
born 1552, beheaded 1618
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The Nymph's Reply
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 by thy love.
But time drives flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
Then Philomel becometh dumb,
And age complains of care 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 live with thee and be thy love.
What should we talk of dainties, then,
Of better meat than 's fit for men?
These are but vain: that 's only good
Which God hath bless'd and sent for food.
But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need;
Then these delight my mind might move,
To live with thee and be thy love.
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