Come Hither Shepherd Swain — Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford

Come hither, shepherd swain!Sir, what do you require?I pray thee show to me thy name;My name is Fond Desire.

When wert thou born, Desire?In pride and pomp of May.By whom, sweet boy, wert thou begot?By fond conceit men say.

Tell me who was thy nurse?Fresh youth, in sugar’d joy.What was thy meat and daily food?Sad sighs and great annoy.

What had’st thou then to drink?Unfeigned lover’s tears.What cradle wert thou rocked in?In hope devoid of fears.

What lulled thee to thy sleepSweet thoughts that liked one best.And where is now thy dwelling place?In gentle hearts I rest.

Doth company displease?It doth in many one.Where would Desire then choose to be?He loves to muse alone.

What feedeth most thy sight?To gaze on beauty still.Whom find’st thou most thy foe?Disdain of my good will.

Will ever age or deathBring thee unto decay?No, no, Desire both lives and diesA thousand times a day.

Then, Fond Desire, farewell;Thou art no mate for me;I should be loath, methinks, to dwellWith such a one as thee.