Andrew Marvell Quotes
1621 - 1678
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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.
c.1650-1652 'To His Coy Mistress' (published1681). 
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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'.
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— c.1650-1652 'The Nymph Complaining for the Death of her Fawn' (published1681).
Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity: And your quaint honour turn to dust; And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place, But none I thinkdo there embrace.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'To His Coy Mistress' (published1681).
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).
Fair quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence thy Sister dear! Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'The Garden' (published1681).
Society is all but rude, To this delicious solitude.
Andrew Marvell— c.1650-1652 'The Garden' (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.
How should I avoid to be her slave,Whose subtle art invisibly can wreathMy fetters of the very air I breath?
Andrew Marvell— The Fair Singer.
While thus he threw his Elbow round,Depopulating all the Ground,And, with his whistling Sythe, does cutEach stroke between the Earth and Root,The edged Stele by careless chanceDid into his own Ankle glance;And there among the Grass fell down,by his own Sythe, the Mower mown.
Andrew Marvell— Damon The Mower.
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.
And all the way, to guide their chime,With falling oars they kept the time.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, Bermudas (1657).
He nothing common did, or mean, Upon that memorable scene.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, Horatian Ode, Upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland.
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).
But at my back I always hear Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, To his coy Mistress.
Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade.
Andrew Marvell— Andrew Marvell, The Garden. Translated; Reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 787-90.
