Gave it to me : nay, and I know
What he said then, I'm sure I do ;
Said he, ' Look how your huntsman here
' Hath taught a fawn to hunt his deer.
What he said then, I'm sure I do ;
Said he, ' Look how your huntsman here
' Hath taught a fawn to hunt his deer.
Marvell - Poems
they cannot thrive
Who killed thee. Thou ne'er didst alive
Them any harm, alas ! nor could
Thy death yet do them any good.
I'm sure I never wished them ill ;
Nor do I for all this, nor will :
But, if my simple prayers may yet
Prevail with heaven to forget
Thy murder, I will join my tears.
Rather than fail. But, O my fears !
It cannot die so. Heaven's king
Keeps register of every thing,
And nothing may we use in vain ;
Even beasts must be with justice slain.
Else men are made their deodands.
Though they should wash their guilty hands
In this warm life-blood which doth part
From thine and wound me to the hcurt.
Digitized by VjOOQIC
OP MAR V ELL.
Yet could they not be clean, their stain
Is dyed in such a purple grain.
There is not such another in
The world, to oflfer for their sin.
Inconstant Stlvio, when yet
I had not found him counterfeit.
One morning (I remember well)
Tied in this silver chain and bell.
Gave it to me : nay, and I know
What he said then, I'm sure I do ;
Said he, ' Look how your huntsman here
' Hath taught a fawn to hunt his deer. '
But Sylyio soon had me beguiled ;
This waxed tame, while he grew wild,
And quite regardless of my smart,
Left me his fawn, but took his heart.
Thenceforth I set myself to play
My solitary time away
With this ; and, very well content.
Could so mine idle life have spent ;
For it was full of sport, and light
Of foot and heart, and did invite
Me to its game : it seemed to bless
Itself in me ; how could I less
Than love it ? 01 cannot be
Unkind to a beast that loveth me.
Had it lived long, I do not know
Whether it too might have done so
Digitized by VjOOQIC
48 THE POEMS
As Sylyio did ; his gifts might be
Perhaps as false, or more, than he ;
But I am sure, for aught that I
Could in so short a time espj.
Thy love was far more better than
The love of fabe and cruel man.
With sweetest milk and sugar first
I it at my own fingers nursed ;
And as it grew, so every day
It waxed more white and sweet than they.
It had so sweet a breath I And ofl
I blushed to see its foot more soft
And white, shall I say than my hand ?
Nay, any lady's of the land.
It is a wond'rous thing how fleet
Twas on those little silver feet ;
With what a pretty skipping grace
It oft would challenge me the race ;
And, when it had left me far away,
*Twould stay, and run again, and stay ;
For it was nimbler much than hinds.
And trod as if on the four winds.
I have a garden of my own,
But so with roses overgrown,
And lilies, that you would it guess
To be a little wilderness.
And all the spring time of the year
It only loved to be there.
Digitized by VjOOQIC
OF MARVELL. 49
Among the beds of lilies I
Have sought it of^, where it should lie.
Who killed thee. Thou ne'er didst alive
Them any harm, alas ! nor could
Thy death yet do them any good.
I'm sure I never wished them ill ;
Nor do I for all this, nor will :
But, if my simple prayers may yet
Prevail with heaven to forget
Thy murder, I will join my tears.
Rather than fail. But, O my fears !
It cannot die so. Heaven's king
Keeps register of every thing,
And nothing may we use in vain ;
Even beasts must be with justice slain.
Else men are made their deodands.
Though they should wash their guilty hands
In this warm life-blood which doth part
From thine and wound me to the hcurt.
Digitized by VjOOQIC
OP MAR V ELL.
Yet could they not be clean, their stain
Is dyed in such a purple grain.
There is not such another in
The world, to oflfer for their sin.
Inconstant Stlvio, when yet
I had not found him counterfeit.
One morning (I remember well)
Tied in this silver chain and bell.
Gave it to me : nay, and I know
What he said then, I'm sure I do ;
Said he, ' Look how your huntsman here
' Hath taught a fawn to hunt his deer. '
But Sylyio soon had me beguiled ;
This waxed tame, while he grew wild,
And quite regardless of my smart,
Left me his fawn, but took his heart.
Thenceforth I set myself to play
My solitary time away
With this ; and, very well content.
Could so mine idle life have spent ;
For it was full of sport, and light
Of foot and heart, and did invite
Me to its game : it seemed to bless
Itself in me ; how could I less
Than love it ? 01 cannot be
Unkind to a beast that loveth me.
Had it lived long, I do not know
Whether it too might have done so
Digitized by VjOOQIC
48 THE POEMS
As Sylyio did ; his gifts might be
Perhaps as false, or more, than he ;
But I am sure, for aught that I
Could in so short a time espj.
Thy love was far more better than
The love of fabe and cruel man.
With sweetest milk and sugar first
I it at my own fingers nursed ;
And as it grew, so every day
It waxed more white and sweet than they.
It had so sweet a breath I And ofl
I blushed to see its foot more soft
And white, shall I say than my hand ?
Nay, any lady's of the land.
It is a wond'rous thing how fleet
Twas on those little silver feet ;
With what a pretty skipping grace
It oft would challenge me the race ;
And, when it had left me far away,
*Twould stay, and run again, and stay ;
For it was nimbler much than hinds.
And trod as if on the four winds.
I have a garden of my own,
But so with roses overgrown,
And lilies, that you would it guess
To be a little wilderness.
And all the spring time of the year
It only loved to be there.
Digitized by VjOOQIC
OF MARVELL. 49
Among the beds of lilies I
Have sought it of^, where it should lie.
