F that the World and Love were Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, young, And truth in every shepherd's Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten, tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee, and be thy love. Thy belt of straw, and ivie-buds, Thy coral clasps, and amber studs; But time drives flocks from field to fold, To come to thee, and be thy love. When rivers rage and rocks grow cold, The flowers do fade, and wanton fields But could youth last, and love still Had joyes no date, nor age no need, move To live with thee, and be thy love. Shall I like an Hermit well? HALL I like an hermit dwell, If she undervalues me, What care I how fair she be? Were her tresses angel-gold; If a stranger may be bold, To convert them to a braid, Were her hands as rich a prize No; she must be perfect snow, To her heart a second lot, Then, if others share with me, |