Reliques of Ancient English Poetry consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other Pieces of our earlier Poets, (Chiefly of the Lyric kind.) Together with some few of later Date |
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XI. | XI. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. |
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XI. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE.
This beautiful sonnet is quoted in the Merry Wives of Windsor, A. 3. sc. 1. and is ascribed (together with the Reply) to Shakespeare himself by all the modern
And yet there is good reason to believe that (not Shakespeare, but) Christopher Marlow, wrote the song, and Sir Walter Raleigh the “Nymph's reply:” For so we are positively assured by Isaac Walton, a writer of some credit, who has inserted them both in his Compleat Angler , under the character of “that smooth song, which was made by Kit. Marlow, now at least fifty years ago; and . . . an Answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days. . . . Old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good.”—It also passed for Marlow's in the opinion of his contemporaries; for the editor of the “Muses Library” has reprinted a poem from England's Helicon, 1600, subscribed Ignoto, and thus intitled, “In Imitation of C. Marlow,” beginning thus,
“And we will revel all the year,
“In plains and groves, &c.”
Upon the whole I am inclined to attribute them to Marlow, and Raleigh; not-withstanding the authority of Shakespeare's Book of Sonnets. For it is well known that as he took no care of his own compositions, so was he utterly regardless what spurious things were fathered upon him. Sir
The following sonnet appears to have been (as it deserved) a great favourite with our earlier poets: for besides the imitation above-mentioned, another is to be found among Donne's poems, intitled “The Bait,” beginning thus,
“And we will some new pleasures prove
“Of golden sands, &c.
As for Chr. Marlow, who was in high repute for his Dramatic writings, he lost his life by a stab received in a brothel, before the year 1593.
See A. Wood, I. 138.And we wil all the pleasures prove
That hils and vallies, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
With a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Imbrodered all with leaves of mirtle;
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Slippers lin'd choicely for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;
With coral clasps, and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Then live with me, and be my love.
For thy delight each May mornìng:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my love.
The Nymph's Reply.
And truth in every shepherd's toung,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee, and be thy love.
When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold,
And all complain of cares to come.
To wayward winter reckoning yield:
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancies spring, but sorrows fall.
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.
Thy coral clasps, and amber studs;
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee, and be thy love.
Had joyes no date, nor age no need;
Then those delights my mind might move
To live with thee, and be thy love.
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