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What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head.

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
Apples
Drop
Cooking
Lead
Melons
Food
Clusters
Head
Wondrous
Life
Ripe
Culinary

More quotes by Andrew Marvell

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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.
Andrew Marvell
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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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But Fate does iron wedges drive, And always crowds itself betwixt.
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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And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept their time.
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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My love is of a birth as rare As 'tis, for object, strange and high It was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility.
Andrew Marvell
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The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.
Andrew Marvell
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Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, lady, were no crime.
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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Art indeed is long, but life is short.
Andrew Marvell
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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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Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard reigns
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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Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.
Andrew Marvell
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Had it lived long, is would have been Lilies without, roses within.
Andrew Marvell
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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. . . .
Andrew Marvell
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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.
Andrew Marvell
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He nothing common did, or mean, / Upon that memorable scene, / But with his keener eye / The axe's edge did try.
Andrew Marvell