Come live with me and be my love,

And we will all the plea­sures prove,
That val­leys, groves, hills and fields,
Woods or steepy moun­tains yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
See­ing the shep­herds feed their flocks
By shal­low rivers, to whose falls
Melo­di­ous birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses,
And a thou­sand fra­grant posies,
A cap of flow­ers and a kir­tle
Embroi­dered all with leaves of myr­tle;
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair-lined 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.

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.

–Christo­pher Marlowe

P.S. Sorry about the for­mat­ting, they should be in stan­zas of four lines each, 
but I can’t fig­ure out how to work the tech­nol­ogy to get it to behave. 
It doesn’t like me for some reason.