Come live with me and be my cook,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or nat'ral co-op yields.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds free their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee sweets of roses,
And a thousand herbal posies,
A cap of flowers and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle:
A gown made of the finest cotton,
Not from wool, for that is rotten;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of recycled gold:
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With hempen clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures have thee shook,
Come live with me and be my cook.
The shepherd swains shall jobless sing
For thy delight each May morning;
If these delights are thy cup of tea,
Then be my cook, and live with me.