Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasues prove,
Of golden sands,and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
There will the river whispering run,
Warmed by the eyes more than the sun,
And there the enamoured fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray,
When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorou sly to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou, to be so seen, beest loth,
By sun or moon, thou darkenest both;
An if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.
Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset
With strangling snare, or windowy net,
Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest,
Or curious traitors, sleave-silk flies,
The fish that is not catched thereby,
Alas, is wiser far than I.