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And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.

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
Deserts
Hurrying
Vast
Desert
Eternity
Lying
Time
Yonder
Chariots

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Had it lived long, is would have been Lilies without, roses within.
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My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow.
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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.
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Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run
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How could such sweet and wholesome hours be reckoned, but in herbs and flowers?
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Art indeed is long, but life is short.
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Self-preservation, nature's first great law, all the creatures, except man, doth awe.
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And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept their time.
Andrew Marvell
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But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.
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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.
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This indigested vomit of the Sea,Fell to the Dutch by Just Propriety.
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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.
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The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.
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The world in all doth but two nations bear- The good, the bad and these mixed everywhere.
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Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.
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What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head.
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I have a garden of my own, But so with roses overgrown, And lilies, that you would it guess To be a little wilderness.
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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.
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Music, the mosaic of the air.
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