Classic Poem

My dearest Love, since thou wilt go,
And leave me here behind thee;
For love or pitie let me know
The place where I may find thee.

Amaril. In country Meadowes pearl'd with Dew,
And set about with Lillies;
There filling Maunds with Cowslips, you
May find your Amarillis.

Her. What have the Meades to do with thee,
Or with thy youthfull houres?
Live thou at Court, where thou mayst be
The Queen of men, not flowers.

Let Country wenches make 'em fine
With Poesies, since 'tis fitter
For thee with richest Jemmes to shine,
And like the Starres to glitter.

Amaril. You set too high a rate upon
A Shepheardess so homely;
Her. Believe it (dearest) ther's not one
I'th'Court that's halfe so comly.

I prithee stay. (Am.) I must away,
Lets kiss first, then we'l sever.
Ambo. And though we bid adieu to day,
Wee shall not part for ever.