That I Like and Love
Sweet Day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky;
Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to night,—
for thou must die.
Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave,
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,
Thy root is ever in its grave,—
and thou must die.
Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie;
My music shews you have your closes,—
and all must die.
Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
Like season'd timber never gives,
But when the whole world turns to coal,
then chiefly lives.
¤ The above transcribed version of George Herbert's poem "Virtue" was found in The Compleat Angler.
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove,
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
There will the river whisp'ring run,
Warm'd by thy eyes more than the Sun;
And there the enamell'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.
When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which ev'ry channel hath,
Most am'rously to thee will swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou, to be so seen, be'st loath,
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both;
And if mine eyes have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.
Let other freeze with Angling-reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds;—
Or treach'rously poor fish beset,
With strangling snares, or windowy net:—
Let coarse bold hands, from slimy nest,
The bedded fish in banks outwrest;—
Let curious traitors sleave silk flies,
To 'witch poor wand'ring fishes eyes:—
For thee, though need'st no such
For thou thyself art thine own bait:
That fish that is not catch'd thereby,
Is wiser far, Alas! than I.
¤ beest (be'st).
Come live with me, and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, or hills, or field,
Or woods, and steepy mountains yield.
When we will sit upon the rocks,
And see the Shepherds feed our flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses,
And then a thousand fragrant posies,
A cup 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;
Slipped lin'd choicely 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.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat,
As precious as the Gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepar'd each day for thee and me.
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.
Web design for Adilegian copyrighted 2006 James Clinton Howell.