Shakespeare again... though this poem isn't his most brilliant work ever, I kinda like the part about making a bed of roses for the beloved one. Assuming you mean a blossoms - otherwise all those thorns could make it a little uncomfortable ;)
... but than again, perhaps that's what love is all about?
William Shakespeare
Poem XX
Live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
And all the craggy mountains yields.
There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, by whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
There will I make thee