 | The Shepherd's Garden |  |
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ALL THINGS TO MY LOVE AM I.
I can laugh and I can cry:
All things to my love am I.
All things to my love am I.
Dost thou love, then I love too;
Art thou cold, I will not woo:
Wouldst thou sunlike smilings show,
Then all frowns I will forego;
Or if thou wilt frown awhile,
I will banish every smile:
If thy lips are turned to me,
Then my kisses wait on thee;
Or if thou say no to them,
Then such toys I will contemn.
I will laugh or I will cry:
All things to my love am I.
Art thou cold, I will not woo:
Wouldst thou sunlike smilings show,
Then all frowns I will forego;
Or if thou wilt frown awhile,
I will banish every smile:
If thy lips are turned to me,
Then my kisses wait on thee;
Or if thou say no to them,
Then such toys I will contemn.
I will laugh or I will cry:
All things to my love am I.
Art thou silent, and would rise
On wings of high philosophies,
Then my sober judgment broods
With thee in those beatitudes;
Or if thou dost laugh and talk,
Amorous in the woodland walk,
Still my heart with thine shall dance
In love's delightful dalliance:
Or if thou wouldst carol it,
My song with thine shall rarely fit.
I will live or I will die:
All things to my love am I.
On wings of high philosophies,
Then my sober judgment broods
With thee in those beatitudes;
Or if thou dost laugh and talk,
Amorous in the woodland walk,
Still my heart with thine shall dance
In love's delightful dalliance:
94
My song with thine shall rarely fit.
I will live or I will die:
All things to my love am I.
Give me foul or give me fair,
I will match thee to a hair:
Give me foul or give me fine,
Yet my mood shall equal thine:
If thy lips shall breathe me, Yea,
Bound to thee my faith shall stay;
Or if thou do say me, No,
I will bid farewell and go,
Ranging like a summer bee
Where the sweets are still for me.
Laugh or cry, or live or die:
All things to my love am I.
I will match thee to a hair:
Give me foul or give me fine,
Yet my mood shall equal thine:
If thy lips shall breathe me, Yea,
Bound to thee my faith shall stay;
Or if thou do say me, No,
I will bid farewell and go,
Ranging like a summer bee
Where the sweets are still for me.
Laugh or cry, or live or die:
All things to my love am I.
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