Classic Poem

A Sonnet

I'll range around the shady bowers,
And gather all the sweetest flowers;
I'll strip the garden and the grave
To make a garland for my love.

When in the sultry heat of day
My thirsty nymph does panting lay,
I'll hasten to the river's brink,
And drain the floods, but she shall drink.

At night, to rest her weary head,
I'll make my love a grassy bed;
And with green boughs I'll form a shade,
That nothing may her rest invade.

And while dissolved in sleep she lies
Myself shall never close these eyes,
But, gazing still with fond delight,
I'll watch my charmer all the night.

And then, as soon as cheerful day
Dispels the darksome shades away,
Forth to the forest I'll repair,
To seek provision for my fair.

Thus will I spend the day and night,
Still mixing labour with delight,
Regarding nothing I endure,
So I can ease for her procure.

But if the nymph whom thus I love,
To her fond swain should faithless prove,
I'll seek some dismal, distant shore,
And never think of woman more.