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Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard reigns

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
Blind
Among
Reigns
Eyed
Reign

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So much one man can do that does both act and know.
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Music, the mosaic of the air.
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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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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.
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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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But Fate does iron wedges drive, And always crowds itself betwixt.
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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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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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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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Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run
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.
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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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Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green glade ... Such was that happy garden-state.
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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Twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there: Two paradises 'twere in one To live in paradise alone.
Andrew Marvell
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Art indeed is long, but life is short.
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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How fit he is to sway That can so well obey.
Andrew Marvell