Come live with me and be my love.
Roundtable
by Christopher Sousa
Come live with me and be my love,
We'll lay and watch the skies above.
I'll take you out upon the sea,
And show you what it means to me.
The wind will be calm yet lightly blowing,
The cabin's warm with oil's glowing.
Just think of us upon this ocean,
Sipping tea as a soothing potion.
I'll climb up high into the rig above,
To share the starry night with you, my love.
The sails will be full with autumn's breeze,
Our bow dipping gracefully into the glowing seas.
And as we dig into my coffers' deep,
You shall behold the things that make women weep.
Bottles of wine from the finest vineyards,
And wool from only the most renowned spinners.
These things and more can be fully your own,
But mostly the beauty that the sea has shown.
The most graceful porpoises will be swimming by,
As the sea birds sing with their siren-like cry.
Precious few have answered our ocean's calling,
Shouting out with eyes bright and bawling.
So take this proposal and fly like the dove,
To come with me and be my love.
***
Or else:
John Donne (1572-1631)
The Bait
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
There will the river whispering run
Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun;
And there the 'enamour'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.
When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth,
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both,
And 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, sleeve-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes.
For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait:
That fish, that is not catch'd thereby,
Alas, is wiser far than I.
***
And then...
COME LIVE WITH ME AND BE MY LOVE
by Gilda Kreuter
"COME, live with ME, and be my love," you implored,
and I did; a tiny apartment,
where elevated subways rattled windows
while daffodils danced on wallpapered walls.
"Come LIVE with me, and be my LOVE," I said,
and you did; a fashionable flat
where wood floors squeaked while brownies baked,
coffee brewed, and firm friendships formed.
"COME LIVE WITH ME AND BE MY LOVE," you insisted,
and I did; a house in the country
where berries bloomed on backyard bushes,
and green grass and babies grew.
"COME, LIVE with me and BE MY LOVE," we declared,
and we did; gulls peck at patio pastries,
shells, freshly gathered from the sea, line walls,
and only the tides tell time.
***
COME LIVE WITH ME
Written by Boudleaux Bryant - Felice Bryant
Recorded by Hank Snow
Come live with me and be my love share my bread and wine
Be wife to me be life to me be mine
Come live with me and be my love let our dreams combine
Be mate to me be fate to me be mine
With these hands I'll build a roof to shield your head
Yes and with these hands I'll crave the wood for a babybed
Oh come live with me and won't you be my love so I can love you all the
time
Be part of me be the heart of me be mine
I'll try to do my best for you I promise you
And I'll laugh with you and I'll cry with you my whole life through
Oh come live with me and won't you be my love share my bread and wine
Be part of me be the heart of me baby please be mine
And then of course:
C. Marlowe
The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
COME live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks 5
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
There will I make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.
A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair linèd slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold.
A belt of straw and ivy buds
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my Love.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat
As precious as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my Love.
Like Torrents of Spring, by Turgenev. No, by Hemingway.
Roundtable
http://roundtable.iwarp.com
--
Posted via Mailgate.ORG Server - http://www.Mailgate.ORG
bookburn
"Roundtable" <roundtab...@hotmail.com> wrote in message
news:b6941535a253351ec6b...@mygate.mailgate.org...
| Come Live With Me and Be My Love
|
| by Christopher Sousa
|
| Come live with me and be my love,
| We'll lay and watch the skies above.
| I'll take you out upon the sea,
| And show you what it means to me.
|
| The Bait
|
| Come live with me, and be my love,
| And we will some new pleasures prove
| Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
| With silken lines, and silver hooks.
|
|
| COME LIVE WITH ME AND BE MY LOVE
| by Gilda Kreuter
|
| "COME, live with ME, and be my love," you implored,
| and I did; a tiny apartment,
| where elevated subways rattled windows
| while daffodils danced on wallpapered walls.
Or what about this as Raleigh's proof of attribution? I think this is
a superior poem to Marlowe's. bb
-- Sir Walter Raleigh
The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd
If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.
Time drives the flocks from field to fold
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.
The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall,
Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten--
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.
Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral claps and somber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.
But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.
Art Neuendorffer
> Alas, is wiser far than I.
BAIT, v. t. [OE. BAITen, beit?n, to feed, harass, fr. Icel. beita,
as, to BAIT horses. --Holland.
also, a stop for rest and refreshment.
for refreshment of one's self or one's beasts, on a journey.
"David L. Webb" <david....@dartmouth.edu> wrote
> terns must be nimble and able to hoVER.
----------------------------------------------------------
THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.
VOL. II.--AUGUST, 1858.--NO. X.
<<William Davenant was in all likelihood the son of an innkeeper
William Shakspeare, a poet of some considerable repute in those times,
being in the habit of passing between Stratford-on-the-Avon and
London, was wont to BAIT and often lodge at this Oxford hostelry.
or the poet more than ordinarily seductive,--who can wonder at even
virtue stooping to folly when the wooer was the Swan of Avon, beside
whom the bird that captivated Leda was as a featherless gosling?--and
the consequence had been Will Davenant, born in the year of our Lord
1605, Shakspeare standing as godfather at the baptism. A boy of lively
parts was Will, and good-fortune brought those parts to the notice of
the grave and philosophic Greville, Lord Brooke, whose dearest boast
was the friendship in early life of Sir Philip Sidney. The result of
this notice was a highly creditable education at school and
university, and an ultimate introduction into the foremost society of
the capital. Davenant, finding the drama supreme in fashionable
regard, devoted himself to the drama. He also devoted himself to the
cultivation of Ben Jonson, then at the summit of renown, assisting in
an amateur way in the preparation of the court pageants, and otherwise
mitigating the Laureate's labors.
------------------------------------------------------------
To draw no envy (Shakespeare) on thy name,
Am I thus ample to thy Booke, and Fame;
While I confesse thy writings to be such,
As neither Man, nor Muse, can praise too much.
'Tis true, and all men's suffrage. But these wayes
Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise;
For seeliest Ignorance on these may light,
Which, when it sounds at best, but eccho's right;
Or blinde Affection, which doth ne're advance
The truth, but gropes, and urgeth all by chance;
Or crafty Malice, might pretend this praise,
And thine to ruine, where it seem'd to raise.
These are, as some infamous Baud, or Whore,
Should praise a Matron. What could hurt her more?
[A]bove th' ill fortune of them, or the need.
[I], therefore will begin. Soule of the Age !
[T]he applause ! delight ! the wonder of our Stage !
[C]haucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lye
-----------------------------------------------
Come, SLEEP: O SLEEP! the certain knot of peace,
The BAITING place of wit, the BALM of woe,
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release,
The indifferent judge between the high and low.
--Philip Sidney (1554-1586)
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
BALM of hurt minds, great Nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast. -- _Macbeth_
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Wenceslaus Hollar (of PRAGUE)'s "Long View of London" shows
the south-bank playhouses but switches the labels on the Globe and
the 'beere bayting h[ouse]' (i.e., the Beargarden, previously the Hope).
----------------------------------------------------------------
CLIFFORD: Are these thy bears? we'll BAIT thy bears to death.
And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,
If thou darest bring them to the BAITing place.
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark Act 2, Scene 1
Your BAIT of falsehood takes this carp of truth:
And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,
With windlasses and with assays of bias,
By indirections find directions out:
--------------------------------------------------------------
King Henry IV, Part ii Act 3, Scene 2
I see no reason in the law of nature but I
may snap at him. Let time SHAPE, and there an end.
--------------------------------------------------------
Romeo and Juliet Act 2, Prologue
Alike betwitched by the charm of looks,
But to his foe supposed he must complain,
And she steal love's sweet BAIT from fearful hooks:
-----------------------------------------------------------
King Henry VI, Part ii Act 5, Scene 1
And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,
If thou darest bring them to the BAITing place.
-----------------------------------------------------------
King Richard II Act 4, Scene 1
Whilst that my wretchedness doth BAIT myself,
Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands
Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates
Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
And water cannot wash away your sin.
------------------------------------------------------------
King Henry IV, Part ii Act 3, Scene 2
old pike, I see no reason in the law of nature but I
may snap at him. Let time shape, and there an end.
------------------------------------------------------------
The Comedy of Errors Act 2, Scene 1
Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard:
Do their gay vestments his affections BAIT?
-----------------------------------------------------
A Midsummer Night's Dream Act 3, Scene 2
Have you conspired, have you with these contrived
To BAIT me with this foul derision?
--------------------------------------------------------
The Merchant of Venice Act 1, Scene 1
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,
And let my liver rather heat with wine
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
But fish not, with this melancholy BAIT,
For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
Act 3, Scene 1
if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.
----------------------------------------------------------
Much Ado About Nothing Act 2, Scene 3
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous BAIT:
So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
Is couched in the woodbine coverture.
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.
HERO Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing
Of the false sweet BAIT that we lay for it.
----------------------------------------------------------
Troilus and Cressida Act 5, Scene 8
And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleased with this dainty BAIT, thus goes to bed.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Measure for Measure Act 2, Scene 2
O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost BAIT thy hook!
---------------------------------------------------
Cymbeline Act 3, Scene 4
By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villany; not born where't grows,
But worn a BAIT for ladies.
------------------------------------------------------
Titus Andronicus Act 4, Scene 4
With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,
Than BAITs to fish, or honey-stalks to sheep,
When as the one is wounded with the BAIT,
The other rotted with delicious feed.
--------------------------------------------------------
Sonnet 129
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
Past reason hated, as a swallow'd BAIT
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
The Passionate Pilgrim Sonnet 4
Or he refused to take her figured proffer,
The tender nibbler would not touch the BAIT,
But smile and jest at every gentle offer:
----------------------------------------------------
Art Neuendorffer
Peter Farey
"bookburn" wrote:
>
> "Roundtable" wrote:
>
<snip>
>
> | And then of course:
> |
> | C. Marlowe
> |
> | The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
> |
> |
> | COME live with me and be my Love,
> | And we will all the pleasures prove
> | That hills and valleys, dale and field,
> | And all the craggy mountains yield.
> |
> | There will we sit upon the rocks
I think it might be worth repeating an exchange which
Peter Groves and I had on the subject of Marlowe's
poem about 18 months ago. My original remark was in
response to a comment from someone else that it showed
how little Marlowe knew about rural life compared with
Shakespeare.
Peter Farey wrote:
>
> Peter Groves wrote:
> >
> > Peter Farey wrote:
> > >
> > > <...> It simply must have
> > > been intentionally satirical - a satire of those
> > > 'idyllic fantasies' of the 'city-boys' that you so
> > > rightly deride. That it later 'went platinum' after
> > > (it was) set to music would have amused him no end.
> >
> > I've always taken it as a slightly more sophisticated
> > kind of satire: the shepherd is a disguised courtier,
> > cynically exploiting (for the purposes of seduction)
> > the fiction that the pastoral world is innocent,
> > unfallen, a place of freedom from moral vigilance.
> > The hint is in the highly artificial nature of his
> > gifts: the pastoral world is in theory free from the
> > need for art's correction of nature (including, of
> > course, the art of moral restraint). In it's own way
> > it's quite a sinister little poem, the more so
> > for its carefree surface.
> >
> > Peter G.
>
> Yes, that makes more sense. I'm glad you agree about
> the basic point, however. Although I have not seen
> this suggested anywhere else, I am sure that it must
> have been. Do you know?
>
> Another piece of evidence for your suggestion is how
> he himself makes such obvious fun of it in *The Jew
> of Malta* (4.2.91-102). In a scene otherwise entirely
> in prose the repellently Machiavellian Ithamore
> suddenly breaks into pastoral rhyme for the quite
> unnecessary 'seduction' of the courtesan Bellamira,
> in the process comparing himself to the blushing
> innocent Adonis, and swearing by "Dis (king of the
> underworld) above".
>
> Content: but we will leave this paltry land,
> And sail from hence to Greece, to lovely Greece;
> I'll be thy Jason, thou my golden fleece;
> Where painted carpets o'er the meads are hurl'd,
> And Bacchus' vineyards overspread the world;
> Where woods and forests go in goodly green;
> I'll be Adonis, thou shalt be Love's Queen;
> The meads, the orchards, and the primrose-lanes,
> Instead of sedge and reed, bear sugar-canes:
> Thou in those groves, by Dis above,
> Shalt live with me, and be my love.
>
> Mind you, it works. Within a page of this she's
> saying "Come, my dear love, let's in and sleep
> together".
>
> Who says Marlowe didn't have a sense of humour?
Incidentally, did you notice that the lyric of the
song being sung for the foxtrot at the start of Ian
McKellan's *Richard III* was a combination of these
two poems?
Peter F.
pet...@rey.prestel.co.uk
http://www2.prestel.co.uk/rey/index.htm
Peter Farey
by Cecil Day-Lewis
Come, live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
Of peace and plenty, bed and board,
That chance employment may afford.
I'll handle dainties on the docks
And thou shalt read of summer frocks:
At evening by the sour canals
We'll hope to hear some madrigals.
Care on thy maiden brow shall put
A wreath of wrinkles, and thy foot
Be shod with pain: not silken dress
But toil shall tire thy loveliness.
Hunger shall make thy modest zone
And cheat fond death of all but bone -
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
biancas842001
That's been on my list of title's I really ought to have watched --
I'll have to add it to my Netflix list, as well. I'm a great fan of
Mr. McKellan's.
----
Bianca S.
LynnE
"biancas842001" <bianca...@yahoo.com> wrote in message
news:456bd92f.04070...@posting.google.com...
He's not a Mister any more, JB. McKellen's a Sir. And you really should
watch his Richard. It's wonderful. I also rather liked "Looking For Richard"
with Al Pacino, although the accents were all over the place. Did you see
that?
Best wishes,
Lynne
>
> ----
> Bianca S.
Art Neuendorffer
> > That's been on my list of title's I really ought to have watched --
> > I'll have to add it to my Netflix list, as well.
> > I'm a great fan of Mr. McKellan's.
> He's not a Mister any more, JB. McKellen's a Sir.
405 Vulgate: Dicit ei Iesus mulier quid ploras quem quaeris illa existimans quia hortulanus esset dicit ei domine si tu sustulisti eum dicito mihi ubi posuisti eum et ego eum tollam
990 West Saxon: Þa cwæð se hælend to hire. Wifhwi wepst þu. hwane secst þu. Hyo wendeþæt hyt se wyrt-ward wære; & cwæð tohym. Leof gyef þu hine name. sege mehwær þu hine leydest. & ich hine nime.
1395 Wyclif: Jhesus seith to hir, Womman, what wepist thou? whom sekist thou? She gessynge that he was a gardynere, seith to him, Sire, if thou hast takun him vp, seie to me, where thou hast leid him, and Y schal take hym awei.
1526 Tyndale: Iesus sayde vnto her: woman why wepest thou? Whom sekest thou? She supposynge that he had bene the gardener sayde vnto him. Syr yf thou have borne him hece tell me where thou hast layde him that I maye fet him.
1611 King James: Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away.
_______ "[OAR]MAR. MAGDALENE"
<<Break the news to her gently, AUBREY! I shall die!
With slit ribbons of his shirt whipping the air he hops
and hobbles round the table, with trousers down at heels,
chased by Ades of MAGDALEN with the TAILOR's shears.
A scared calf's face gilded with MARMALADE.
A deaf gardener, APRONed, masked with Matthew Arnold's face,>>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
<<His father was a butcher, and I have been told heretofore by some
of the neighbours that when he was a boy he exercised his father's
trade, but when he kill'd a calfe he would doe it in a high style,
and make a speech.>> - JOHN AUBREY, 1669-96, _Brief Lives_
"The Pig-Tale" _Sylvie and Bruno Concluded_
and two JARs of [ORA]NGE MARMALADE--
the JARs of [ORA]NGE MARMALADE didn't like the tune, and the other JAR
of [ORA]NGE MARMALADE did like the tune--I know I shall get confused
among those JARs of [ORA]NGE MARMALADE, Sylvie!" he whispered anxiously.
<<[Alice] took down a JAR from one of the shelves as she passed;
to drop the JAR for fear of killing somebody, so managed
to put it into one of the cupBOARds as she fell past it.>>
<<Even by the stern and direful GOD OF WAR,
Whose sinewy neck in battle nE'ER did bow,
Who conquers where he COMES in EVERy JAR;>>
---------------------------------------------------------
[COMES = Latin for EARL]
"ORANGE MARMALADE"
Peter Farey
Lynne Kositsky wrote:
>
> "biancas842001" wrote:
>
> > That's been on my list of title's I really ought to
> > have watched -- I'll have to add it to my Netflix
> > list, as well. I'm a great fan of Mr. McKellan's.
>
> He's not a Mister any more, JB.
Ah, so you thought so too? But she's not a JB, nor a
JBM, any more, Lynne. She's a b.
> McKellen's a Sir. And you really should watch his
> Richard. It's wonderful.
Agreed. But I'm afraid that Olivier's still has to be
the one for me. In fact I still have the old 33 rpm
LP of it that I bought with the tips I earned in the
left luggage office at Victoria Station - just before
National Service - in 1956.
> I also rather liked "Looking For Richard" with Al
> Pacino, although the accents were all over the place.
> Did you see that?
Ah yes. Sadly, the Google records have managed to keep
my assertions about how *Robert de Niro* (sic) missed
the irony in Clarence's stuff about the letter 'G'!
Roundtable
> >
> > "biancas842001" wrote:
> >
> > > That's been on my list of title's I really ought to
> > > have watched -- I'll have to add it to my Netflix
> > > list, as well. I'm a great fan of Mr. McKellan's.
> >
> > He's not a Mister any more, JB.
>
> Ah, so you thought so too? But she's not a JB, nor a
> JBM, any more, Lynne. She's a b.
Still Looking for Baker, after all this time, then.
>
> > McKellen's a Sir. And you really should watch his
> > Richard. It's wonderful.
>
> Agreed. But I'm afraid that Olivier's still has to be
> the one for me. In fact I still have the old 33 rpm
> LP of it that I bought with the tips I earned in the
> left luggage office at Victoria Station - just before
> National Service - in 1956.
>
> > I also rather liked "Looking For Richard" with Al
> > Pacino, although the accents were all over the place.
> > Did you see that?
>
> Ah yes. Sadly, the Google records have managed to keep
> my assertions about how *Robert de Niro* (sic) missed
> the irony in Clarence's stuff about the letter 'G'!
Yes, I remember that post. The Tragedy Of Al Pacino,
or The Story of the Forgotten Twin of R de N.
I came upon the "Come live with me" versions because
I was googling for "decocted blood" and "thrice decocted"
etc. from another Marlovian post, which led me into
The Alchemy Page and other odd websites, with photos
of a re-built old apothecary with a sort of dragon
hanging from the ceiling, which strongly resembles
a shop window of a pharmacy here in Luzern opposite
the Wilde Mann restaurant, I forget its name.
Anyway, have a nice 4th July in the US, I'll have a
nice 'ol sunny Sunday meself, with folks over in the
evening to watch Portugal-Greece (football), and I
hope Greece wins because there are so many Portuguese
in Luzern, and they have their center close to where I
live, and if THEY win, they'll drive around ALL night
hanging out of their cars with flags and shouting,
yelling, honking horns, blowing trumpets etc.
The Greeks will do the same - but there are fewer
Greeks here, so: less noise.
Roundtable
http://myluzern.iwarp.com
http://villakreuzbuch.s5.com
http://roundtable.iwarp.com
Arindam Banerjee
>
> The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
>
>
> COME live with me and be my Love,
She lives with me and is my love.
We get along like hand and glove.
And when it comes to push and shove,
I know she is no cooing dove.
She is my love and lives with me.
How fair and bright she, all can see.
Yet I've seen, how in adversity
Her good and truth shine with clarity.
So may yet the sight of Heaven's gate
Be kept from us till a later date.
For there never could be a better mate
There, than here in this pleasant wait.
(She knows what's smooth and what is rough.
She gives Hell hell till Hell has enough!)
Arindam Banerjee.
Arindam Banerjee
"Madhobi modhupay holo mitali, a-e bujhi jiboner
modhu gitali" (To the flower and the bee happened
friendship, this understandably is life's sweet song)
adda...@bigpond.com (Arindam Banerjee) wrote in message news:<890e65ea.04070...@posting.google.com>...