Andrew Marvell Famous Quotes
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My vegetable love will grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
The same arts that did gain
A power, must it maintain.
Ye country comets, that portend No war, nor prince's funeral, Shining unto no higher end Than to presage the grasses fall ...
As lines, so loves oblique, may well Themselves in every angle greet; But ours, so truly parallel, Though infinite, can never meet.
I have a garden of my own, But so with roses overgrown, And lilies, that you would it guess To be a little wilderness.
And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
Art indeed is long, but life is short.
Therefore the love which us doth bind,
But fate so enviously debars,
Is the conjunction of the mind,
And opposition of the stars.
He nothing common did, or mean, / Upon that memorable scene, / But with his keener eye / The axe's edge did try.
Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide.
Though I carry always some ill-nature about me, yet it is, I hope, no more than is in this world necessary for a preservative.
Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day.
Like the vain curlings of the watery maze,
Which in smooth streams a sinking weight does raise,
So Man, declining always, disappears
In the weak circles of increasing years;
And his short tumults of themselves compose,
While flowing Time above his head does close.
But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.
Had we but world enough, and time
Now let us sport us while we may; And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour, Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
No white nor red was ever seen So am'rous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress' name. Little, alas, they know or heed How far these beauties hers exceed! Fair trees! where s'e'er your barks I wound, No name shall but your own be found.
How vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays; And their uncessant labours see Crown'd from some single herb or tree. Whose short and narrow verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all flow'rs and all trees do close To weave the garlands of repose.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run
My love is of a birth as rare
As 'tis, for object, strange and high;
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility.
My mind was once the true survey Of all these meadows fresh and gay; And in the greenness of the grass Did see its hopes as in a glass.
Annihilating all that's made, To a green thought in a green shade.
Self-preservation, nature's first great law, all the creatures, except man, doth awe.
For Juliana comes, and she, what I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.
See how the Orient dew, Shed from the bosom of the morn Into the blowing roses, Yet careless of its mansion new; For the clear region where 'twas born Round in its self encloses: And in its little globes extent, Frames as it can its native element.
Had it lived long, is would have been
Lilies without, roses within.
Twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there: Two paradises 'twere in one To live in paradise alone.
How fit he is to sway That can so well obey.
How could such sweet and wholesome hours be reckoned, but in herbs and flowers?
Music, the mosaic of the air
Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard reigns
