I read late into the night on Thursday, leafing through poetry books in an attempt to find words that would reflect the huge events happening in the world, as it shifts once again into an uncomfortable position. At times of such horror, as witnessed over the past days, weeks and months, comfort came from an unexpected source and I found the beauty of words from an old romantic rebel was the deep breath I needed to take.
Enjoy a moment’s peace today in the madness of this crazy world…
The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Christopher Marlowe (16th Century)
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
There 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 linèd 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.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat
As precious as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared 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.