The Poetry Corner

Amaryllis

By Thomas Campion

I care not for these ladies that must be wooed and prayed; Give me kind Amaryllis, the wanton country maid. Nature Art disdaineth; her beauty is her own. Her when we court and kiss, she cries: forsooth, let go! But when we come where comfort is, she never will say no. If I love Amaryllis, she gives me fruit and flowers; But if we love these ladies, we must give golden showers. Give them gold that sell love, give me the nut-brown lass, Who when we court and kiss, she cries: forsooth, let go! But when we come where comfort is, she never will say no. These ladies must have pillows and beds by strangers wrought. Give me a bower of willows, of moss and leaves unbought, And fresh Amaryllis with milk and honey fed, Who when we court and kiss, she cries: forsooth, let go! But when we come where comfort is, she never will say no.