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This Day in Gay History | ||||
October 29Died
1618 -
SIR WALTER RALEIGH, died (b: 1552); famed English writer, poet, courtier and explorer. He was responsible for establishing the second English colony in the "New World" (after Newfoundland was established by Sir Humphrey Gilbert nearly one year previously, August 5 1583), on June 4, 1584, at Roanoke Island in present-day North Carolina. When the third attempt at settlement failed, the ultimate fate of the colonists was never authoritatively ascertained, and it became known as "The Lost Colony". The question for us here is this: Were Sir Walter Raleigh and Christopher Marlowe lovers? Don’t laugh. Anything is possible, especially when so little is known about both. For many years, this provocative possibility has been suggested, even though it is based entirely on speculation. Marlowe wrote a poem titled, “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love,” which begins with the charming invitation “Come live with me and be my love.” A twin poem, “The Nymph’s Reply to The Shepherd,” appeared shortly thereafter, and there is little doubt that it was written by Raleigh out of love for Marlowe. The response, of course, is typically coy (Well, no, what do you think I am? But of course you know I mean yes when I say no, and you aren’t really thinking of taking my virginity with that big thing, are you, you beast? But if you don’t I’ll die, etc.). It’s probably one of the best "No-but-I-really-mean-Yes" poems in the language, at least until it was answered by Marvell in To His Coy Mistress: Look, if you don’t screw now, when are you going to do it? In the grave? So shut up and put out! — Hooray for Marvell. Today's Gay Wisdom
1618 -
The Passionate Shepherd to His Love Come live with me and be my love, And we will sit upon rocks, And I will make thee beds of roses A gown made of the finest wool A belt of straw and ivy buds, The shepherds's swains shall dance and sing Christopher Marlowe 1599 Raleigh’s Reply
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.
The 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. Sir Walter Raleigh, 1599 | ||||
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