MICHAEL DRAYTON

And as there plenty grows Of laurel everywhere Apollo's sacred tree You it may see A poet's brows

To crown, that may sing there.

Thy Voyages attend, Industrious Hakluyt,

Whose reading shall inflame Men to seek fame, And much commend To after times thy wit.

��CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE 121. The T ass ton ate Shepherd to His Love

��live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dales and fields^ Or woods or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks, And see 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.

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