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Had it lived long, is would have been Lilies without, roses within.

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
Without
Long
Would
Lilies
Roses
Rose
Flower
Lived
Within

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Music, the mosaic of the air.
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The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.
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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.
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And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
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My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow.
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Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.
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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.
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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.
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What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head.
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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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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.
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Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard reigns
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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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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.
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How could such sweet and wholesome hours be reckoned, but in herbs and flowers?
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This indigested vomit of the Sea,Fell to the Dutch by Just Propriety.
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And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept their time.
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But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.
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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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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.
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