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Self-preservation, nature's first great law, all the creatures, except man, doth awe.

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
Law
Fear
Nature
Firsts
Doth
Self
Awe
First
Preservation
Great
Creatures
Men
Except

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Twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there: Two paradises 'twere in one To live in paradise alone.
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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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So much one man can do that does both act and know.
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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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Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, lady, were no crime.
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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. . . .
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This indigested vomit of the Sea,Fell to the Dutch by Just Propriety.
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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.
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Therefore the love which us doth bind, But fate so enviously debars, Is the conjunction of the mind, And opposition of the stars.
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And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
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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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Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.
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But Fate does iron wedges drive, And always crowds itself betwixt.
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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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Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide.
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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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Had it lived long, is would have been Lilies without, roses within.
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Annihilating all that's made, To a green thought in a green shade.
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Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard reigns
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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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