Andrew Marvell Quotes
1621 - 1678
|
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.
c.1650-1652 'To His Coy Mistress' (published1681). 
|
More Andrew Marvell Quotes
As lines so loves oblique may well Themselves in every angle greet But ours so truly parallel, Though infinite can never meet. Therefore the love which doth us bind, But fate so enviously debars, Is the conjunction of the mind, And opposition of the stars.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'The Definition of Love' (published1681).
She with her eyes my heart does bind,She with her voice might captivate my mind.
Andrew Marvell— The Fair Singer.
Art indeed is long, but life is short.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, Upon the Death of Lord Hastings (1649), last line
He nothing common did or mean Upon that memorable scene: But with his leener eye The axe's edge did try.
Andrew Marvell— 1650 Of Charles I.'An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland'.
How fit he is to sway That can so well obey.
Andrew Marvell— 1650 'An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland'.
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— c.1650-1652 'To His Coy Mistress' (published1681), closing lines.
My love is of a birth as rare As 'tis for object strange and high: It was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility. Magnanimous Despair alone Could show me so divine a thing, Where feeble Hope could ne'er have flown But vainly flapped its tinsel wing.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'The Definition of Love' (published1681).
Ye living lamps, by whose dear light The nightingale does sit so late, And studying all the summer night, Her matchless songs does meditate. 556
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'The Mower to the Glo- Worms' (published1681).
And now, when I have summed up all my store, Thinking (so I myself deceive) So rich a chaplet thence to weave As never yet the King of Glory wore, Alas! I find the serpent old, That, twining in his speckled breast, About the flowers disguised does fold With wreaths of fame and interest.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'The Coronet' (published1681).
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— c.1650-1652 'The Mower's Song' (published1681).
Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'The Garden' (published1681), stanza 6.
Such was that happy garden-state, While man there walked without a mate.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'The Garden' (published1681), stanza 8.
'Twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there: Two paradises 'twere in one To live in paradise alone.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'The Garden' (published1681), stanza 8.
No creature loves an empty space; Their bodies measure out their place.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'Upon Appleton House, to My Lord Fairfax' (published1681), stanza 2.
'Tis not, what once it was, the world; But a rude heap together hurl'd.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'Upon Appleton House, to My Lord Fairfax' (published1681), stanza 96.
Oh thou, that dear and happy isle The garden of the world ere while, Thou paradise of four seas, Which heaven planted us to please, But, to exclude the world, did guard With watery if not flaming sword; What luckless apple did we taste, To make us mortal, and thee waste?
Andrew Marvell— "Upon Appleton House, to My Lord Fairfax" (published 1681), stanza 41 (c. 1650-1652)
Art indeed is long, but life is short.
Andrew Marvell— Upon the Death of Lord Hastings (1649), last line
— Variant: "Art is long, and time is fleeting." Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, A Psalm of Life (1839).
How fit is he to swayThat can so well obey ("Horatian Ode," 83-84),
Andrew Marvell— An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland (1650), lines 83-84; on political authority.
The world in all doth but two nations bear —The good, the bad; and these mixed everywhere.
Andrew Marvell— The Loyal Scot (1650-1652).
No creature loves an empty space;Their bodies measure out their place.
Andrew Marvell— Upon Appleton House, to My Lord Fairfax.
To make a bank was a great plot of state;Invent a shovel, and be a magistrate.
Andrew Marvell— The Character of Holland (c. 1653).
This indigested vomit of the Sea,Fell to the Dutch by Just Propriety.
Andrew Marvell— The Character of Holland (c. 1653).
So much one man can do, That does both act and know.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, Horatian Ode, Upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland.
And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept the time.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, Bermudas (1657).
No creature loves an empty space; Their bodies measure out their place.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, Upon Appleton House, to My Lord Fairfax
Where the remote Bermudas ride, In th' ocean's bosom unespied.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, Bermudas (1657).
The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, To His Coy Mistress (c. 1650).
Ye living lamps, by whose dear light The nightingale does sit so late; And studying all the summer night, Her matchless songs does meditate.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, The Mower to the Glow-worm.
Ye country comets, that portend No war nor princes' funeral Shining unto no other end Than to presage the grass's fall.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, The Mower to the Glow-worm.
