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How fit he is to sway That can so well obey.

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
Sway
Obey
Fit
Wells
Well

More quotes by Andrew Marvell

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This indigested vomit of the Sea,Fell to the Dutch by Just Propriety.
Andrew Marvell
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What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head.
Andrew Marvell
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Had it lived long, is would have been Lilies without, roses within.
Andrew Marvell
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But Fate does iron wedges drive, And always crowds itself betwixt.
Andrew Marvell
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Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard reigns
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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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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My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow.
Andrew Marvell
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Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide.
Andrew Marvell
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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.
Andrew Marvell
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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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I have a garden of my own, But so with roses overgrown, And lilies, that you would it guess To be a little wilderness.
Andrew Marvell
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Annihilating all that's made, To a green thought in a green shade.
Andrew Marvell
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How could such sweet and wholesome hours be reckoned, but in herbs and flowers?
Andrew Marvell
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Music, the mosaic of the air.
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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So much one man can do that does both act and know.
Andrew Marvell
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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
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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.
Andrew Marvell
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But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.
Andrew Marvell