Quotes by Andrew Marvell

“She with her eyes my heart does bind, She with her voice might captivate my mind.”

“How should I avoid to be her slave, Whose subtle art invisibly can wreath My fetters of the very air I breath?”

“While thus he threw his Elbow round, Depopulating all the Ground, And, with his whistling Sythe, does cut Each stroke between the Earth and Root, The edged Stele by careless chance Did into his own...”

“Art indeed is long, but life is short.”

“How fit is he to sway That can so well obey (Horatian Ode, 83-84),”

“The world in all doth but two nations bear —The good, the bad; and these mixed everywhere.”

“No creature loves an empty space;Their bodies measure out their place.”

“To make a bank was a great plot of state;Invent a shovel, and be a magistrate.”

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

“...the inglorious arts of peace...”

“He nothing common did or meanUpon that memorable scene,But with his keener eyeThe axe's edge did try.”

“But bowed his comely headDown as upon a bed.”

“So much one man can do,That does both act and know.”

“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.”

“I wouldLove you ten years before the Flood,And you should, if you please, refuseTill the conversion of the Jews.My vegetable love should growVaster than empires and more slow.”

“An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart.”

“But at my back I always hear Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.”

“Thy beauty shall no more be found; Nor, in thy marble vault shall sound My echoing song; then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all m...”

“Now therefore while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may, And now, like amoro...”

“Let us roll all our strength and all Our sweetness up into one ball, And tear our pleasures with rough strife Thorough the iron gates of life: Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet w...”