Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Come away, come, sweet Love
Come Away, Come, Sweet Love.
Come away, come, sweet Love!
The golden morning breaks;
All the earth, all the air,
Of love and pleasure speaks.
Teach thine arms, then, to embrace,
And sweet rosy lips to kiss,
And mix our souls in mutual bliss.
Eyes were made for beauty's grace,
Viewing, rueing, Love's long pain,
Procured by beauty's rude disdain.
The golden morning breaks;
All the earth, all the air,
Of love and pleasure speaks.
Teach thine arms, then, to embrace,
And sweet rosy lips to kiss,
And mix our souls in mutual bliss.
Eyes were made for beauty's grace,
Viewing, rueing, Love's long pain,
Procured by beauty's rude disdain.
Come away, come, sweet Love!
The golden morning wastes;
While the sun from the sphere
His fiery arrows casts;
Making all the shadows fly;
Playing, staying in the grove,
To entertain the stealth of love.
Thither, sweet love, let us hie:
Flying, dying, in desire,
Winged with sweet hopes and heavenly fire.
The golden morning wastes;
While the sun from the sphere
His fiery arrows casts;
Making all the shadows fly;
Playing, staying in the grove,
To entertain the stealth of love.
Thither, sweet love, let us hie:
Flying, dying, in desire,
Winged with sweet hopes and heavenly fire.
Come away, come, sweet love!
Do not in vain adorn
Beauty's grace, that should rise,
Like to the naked morn.
Lilies on the river's side,
And fair Cyprian flowers new blown,
Desire no beauties but their own.
Ornament is nurse of pride;
Pleasure measures Love's delight,
Haste, then, sweet Love! our wished flight.
About 1600.
Do not in vain adorn
Beauty's grace, that should rise,
Like to the naked morn.
Lilies on the river's side,
And fair Cyprian flowers new blown,
Desire no beauties but their own.
Ornament is nurse of pride;
Pleasure measures Love's delight,
Haste, then, sweet Love! our wished flight.
About 1600.