So we win of
doubtful
fate,
Andy if good to us she meant,
We that good shall antedate.
Andy if good to us she meant,
We that good shall antedate.
Marvell - Poems
First, my unhappy statue shall
Be cut in marble ; and withal, t
Let it be weeping too ; but there
The engraver sure his art may spare ;
For I so truly thee bemoan,
That I shall weep, though I be stone,
Until my tears, still dropping, wear
My breast, themselves engraving there ;
Then at my feet shalt thou be laid,
Of purest alabaster made ;
For I would have thine image be
White as I can, though not as thee.
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OP MARVELL. 51
YOUNG LOVE.
Come, little infant, love me now,
While thine unsuspected years
Clear thine aged father's brow
From cold jealousy and fears.
II.
Pretty surely 'twere to see
By young Love old Time beguiled,
While our sportings are as free
As the nurse's with the child.
III.
Common beauties stay fifteen ;
Such as yours should swifter move,
Whose fair blossoms are too green
Yet for lust, but not for love.
iv.
Love as much the snowy lamb.
Or the wanton kid, does prize,
As the lusty bull or ram,
For his morning sacrifice.
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62 THE POEMS
y.
Now then love me : Time may take
Thee before thy time away ;
Of this need we'll virtue make.
And learn love before we may.
VI.
So we win of doubtful fate,
Andy if good to us she meant,
We that good shall antedate.
Or, if ill, that ill prevent
vn.
Thus do kingdoms, frustrating
Other titles to their crown.
In the cradle crown their king,
So all foreign claims to drown.
Vlll.
So to make all rivals vain.
Now I crown thee with my love :
Crown me with thy love again.
And we both shall monarchs prove.
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OP MARVELL. 53
TO HIS COY HISTRESa
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
Should'st rubies find : I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the fiood.
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews ;
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow ;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze ;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest ;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state.
Nor would I love at lower rate.