More.

Keep it.

Give me Carpioni ...

Live, live with me, and thou shalt see

The pleasures I'll prepare for thee:

What sweets the country can afford

Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board.

The soft sweet moss shall be thy bed,

With crawling woodbine over-spread:

By which the silver-shedding streams

Shall gently melt thee into dreams.

Thy clothing next, shall be a gown

Made of the fleeces' purest down.

The tongues of kids shall be thy meat;

Their milk thy drink; and thou shalt eat

The paste of filberts for thy bread

With cream of cowslips buttered:

Thy feasting-table shall be hills

With daisies spread, and daffadils;

Where thou shalt sit, and Red-breast by,

For meat, shall give thee melody.

I'll give thee chains and carcanets

Of primroses and violets.

A bag and bottle thou shalt have,

That richly wrought, and this as brave;

So that as either shall express

The wearer's no mean shepherdess.

At shearing-times, and yearly wakes,

When Themilis his pastime makes,

There thou shalt be; and be the wit,

Nay more, the feast, and grace of it.

On holydays, when virgins meet

To dance the heys with nimble feet,

Thou shalt come forth, and then appear

The Queen of Roses for that year.

And having danced ('bove all the best)

Carry the garland from the rest,

In wicker-baskets maids shall bring

To thee, my dearest shepherdling,

The blushing apple, bashful pear,

And shame-faced plum, all simp'ring there.

Walk in the groves, and thou shalt find

The name of Phillis in the rind

Of every straight and smooth-skin tree;

Where kissing that, I'll twice kiss thee.

To thee a sheep-hook I will send,

Be-prank'd with ribbands, to this end,

This, this alluring hook might be

Less for to catch a sheep, than me.

Thou shalt have possets, wassails fine,

Not made of ale, but spiced wine;

To make thy maids and self free mirth,

All sitting near the glitt'ring hearth.

Thou shalt have ribbands, roses, rings,

Gloves, garters, stockings, shoes, and strings

Of winning colours, that shall move

Others to lust, but me to love. -

These, nay, and more, thine own shall be,

If thou wilt love, and live with me.

Robert Herrick