As I left this place, and entered into the next field, a second pleasure entertained me, 'twas a handsome Milk-maid, that had cast away all care, and sung like a _Nightingale_; her voice was good, and the Ditty fitted for it; 'twas that smooth Song which was made by _Kit Marlow_, now at least fifty years ago; and the Milk maid's mother sung an answer to it, which was made by Sir _Walter Raleigh_ in his younger days. They were old fashioned Poetry, but choicely good, I think much better then that now in fashion in this Critical age. Look yonder, on my word, yonder they be both a milking again: I will give her the _Chub_, and persuade them to sing those two songs to us. _Pisc_. God speed, good woman, I have been a-fishing, and am going to _Bleak Hall_ to my bed, and having caught more fish then will sup my self and friend, will bestow this upon you and your daughter for I use to sell none. _Milkw_. Marry, God requite you Sir, and we'l eat it cheerfully: will you drink a draught of red Cow's milk? _Pisc_. No, I thank you: but I pray do us a courtesie that shal stand you and your daughter in nothing, and we wil think our selves stil something in your debt; it is but to sing us a Song, that that was sung by you and your daughter, when I last past over this Meadow, about eight or nine dayes since. _Milk_. what Song was it, I pray? was it, _Come Shepherds deck your heads_: or, _As at noon_ Dulcina _rested_: or _Philida flouts me_? _Pisc_. No, it is none of those: it is a Song that your daughter sung the first part, and you sung the answer to it. _Milk_. O I know it now, I learn'd the first part in my golden age, when I was about the age of my daughter; and the later part, which indeed fits me best, but two or three years ago; you shal, God willing, hear them both. Come _Maudlin_, sing the first part to the Gentlemen with a merrie heart, and Ile sing the second. The Milk maids Song. _Come live with me, and be my Love, And we wil all the pleasures prove That vallies, Groves, or hils, or fields, Or woods and steepie mountains yeelds. Where we will sit upon the_ Rocks, _And see the Shepherds feed our_ flocks, _By shallow_ Rivers, _to whose falls Mellodious birds sing_ madrigals. _And I wil make thee beds of_ Roses, _And then a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers and a Kirtle, Imbroidered all with leaves of Mirtle. A Gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty Lambs we pull, Slippers lin'd choicely for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold. A belt of straw and ivie buds, With Coral clasps, and Amber studs And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my Love. The Shepherds Swains shal dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my Love_.