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This indigested vomit of the Sea,Fell to the Dutch by Just Propriety.

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
Sea
Vomit
Propriety
Dutch
Fell

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But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.
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Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide.
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Self-preservation, nature's first great law, all the creatures, except man, doth awe.
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How could such sweet and wholesome hours be reckoned, but in herbs and flowers?
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So much one man can do that does both act and know.
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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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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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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.
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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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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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And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
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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.
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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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And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept their time.
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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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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. 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.
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Art indeed is long, but life is short.
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But Fate does iron wedges drive, And always crowds itself betwixt.
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