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My love is of a birth as rare As 'tis, for object, strange and high It was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility.

Andrew Marvell

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Andrew Marvell
Age: 57 †
Born: 1621
Born: March 31
Died: 1678
Died: August 16
Poet
Politician
Satirist
Writer
Andrew Marvell
Love
Rare
Object
Despair
Birth
Objects
Strange
Begotten
High
Unrequited
Upon
Impossibility

More quotes by Andrew Marvell

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And now, when I have summed up all my store, Thinking (so I myself deceive) So rich a chaplet thence to weave As never yet the King of Glory wore, Alas! I find the serpent old, That, twining in his speckled breast, About the flowers disguised does fold With wreaths of fame and interest.
Andrew Marvell
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And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
Andrew Marvell
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Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard reigns
Andrew Marvell
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But Fate does iron wedges drive, And always crowds itself betwixt.
Andrew Marvell
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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.
Andrew Marvell
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Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.
Andrew Marvell
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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. Thou by the Indian Ganges'side Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the flood.
Andrew Marvell
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Twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there: Two paradises 'twere in one To live in paradise alone.
Andrew Marvell
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What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach Stumbling on melons, as I pass, Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.
Andrew Marvell
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Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, lady, were no crime.
Andrew Marvell
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Let us roll all our strength, and all Our sweetness, up into one ball: And tear our pleasures with rough strife, Through the iron gates of life. Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run.
Andrew Marvell
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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.
Andrew Marvell
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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.
Andrew Marvell
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Ye country comets, that portend No war, nor prince's funeral, Shining unto no higher end Than to presage the grasses fall. . . .
Andrew Marvell
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Annihilating all that's made, To a green thought in a green shade.
Andrew Marvell
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How fit he is to sway That can so well obey.
Andrew Marvell
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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.
Andrew Marvell
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As lines, so loves oblique, may well Themselves in every angle greet But ours, so truly parallel, Though infinite, can never meet.
Andrew Marvell
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The world in all doth but two nations bear- The good, the bad and these mixed everywhere.
Andrew Marvell
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Art indeed is long, but life is short.
Andrew Marvell