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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
Objects
Strange
Begotten
High
Unrequited
Upon
Impossibility
Love
Rare
Object
Despair
Birth

More quotes by Andrew Marvell

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How vainly men themselves amaze, / To win the palm, the oak, or bays / And their incessant labours see / Crowned from some single herb or tree.
Andrew Marvell
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How could such sweet and wholesome hours be reckoned, but in herbs and flowers?
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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Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, lady, were no crime.
Andrew Marvell
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What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head.
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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How fit he is to sway That can so well obey.
Andrew Marvell
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So much one man can do that does both act and know.
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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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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Art indeed is long, but life is short.
Andrew Marvell
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This indigested vomit of the Sea,Fell to the Dutch by Just Propriety.
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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Music, the mosaic of the air.
Andrew Marvell
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Self-preservation, nature's first great law, all the creatures, except man, doth awe.
Andrew Marvell
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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.
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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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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Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.
Andrew Marvell
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But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.
Andrew Marvell