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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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Andrew Marvell
Age: 57 †
Born: 1621
Born: March 31
Died: 1678
Died: August 16
Poet
Politician
Satirist
Writer
Andrew Marvell
Labour
Herb
Single
Amaze
Tree
Crowned
Winning
Incessant
Men
Herbs
Bays
Oaks
Upbraid
Palm
Vainly
Palms
Labours
More quotes by Andrew Marvell
But Fate does iron wedges drive, And always crowds itself betwixt.
Andrew Marvell
The world in all doth but two nations bear- The good, the bad and these mixed everywhere.
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The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.
Andrew Marvell
Had it lived long, is would have been Lilies without, roses within.
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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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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
Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.
Andrew Marvell
Twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there: Two paradises 'twere in one To live in paradise alone.
Andrew Marvell
What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head.
Andrew Marvell
Annihilating all that's made, To a green thought in a green shade.
Andrew Marvell
Art indeed is long, but life is short.
Andrew Marvell
My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow.
Andrew Marvell
Therefore the love which us doth bind, But fate so enviously debars, Is the conjunction of the mind, And opposition of the stars.
Andrew Marvell
Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide.
Andrew Marvell
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
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
Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, lady, were no crime.
Andrew Marvell
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
Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run
Andrew Marvell
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