Not many people know this, but within the literay world, doubt has forever clouded that the man William Shakespeare wrote the works attributed to him, going to far as to say that he was illiterate. Why, even his mere existance has been called into question from time to time. So, who exactly is William Shakespeare?

Some theorize that the best candidate is Christopher Marlowe, one of my favorite writers. Marlowe was due to be sentenced to death because he was an atheist. He "faked" his own death and assumed the identity of William Shakespeare.

All well aside, I'm not here to discuss the actual identity of the author that produced the works penned by the name William Shakespeare. No, since I don't have much time to write this article this week (a call a few minutes ago just took up all day tomorrow), I want to leave you with one of my favorite poems. Actually, it's a passage from one of Marlowe's works entitled, "The Passionate Pilgrim to His Love".

Until next week, stay safe out there,

Rob

P.S.

Bonus points for naming the author who did a follow-up poem on this. I'll give you a hint. A town in North Carolina is named after him.

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Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.

There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

There I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair linèd slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.

Thy silver dishes for thy meat
As precious as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

The answer for the writer's name is Sir Walter Raleigh, and it was called Love's Answer or Love's Reply (can't recall for sure).
If that the world and love were young
And truth in every sheperd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might move
To live with the and be they love.

*Ding, Ding*

We've got a winner!

Actually, it's called the Nymph's Reply to the Shepard.

Rob

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If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.


Time drives the flocks from field to fold
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.


The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring but sorrow's fall.


Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten, -
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.


Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.


But could youth last and love still breed,
had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.

Yeah! What do I win Rob? I guess since I only got part of the answer I only get part of the prize?

I thought there were a few different poems, though my literature book only has that one.