The Complete Works in Verse and Prose of Andrew Marvell...

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Robson and sons, printers, 1872
 

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Página 112 - Time's winged 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 honour turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust: 30 The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.
Página 111 - 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 Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the flood, 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...
Página 5 - So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found, Among the faithless faithful only he; Among innumerable false unmoved, Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal ; Nor number nor example with him wrought To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, Though single.
Página 112 - 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 we will make him run.
Página 111 - 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.
Página 87 - And sends the fowls to us in care On daily visits through the air. He hangs in shades the orange bright Like golden lamps in a green night...
Página 67 - What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach; Stumbling on melons, as I pass, Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.
Página 151 - WHEN I beheld the Poet blind, yet bold, In slender Book his vast Design unfold, Messiah...
Página 88 - He makes the figs our mouths to meet, And throws the melons at our feet; But apples, — plants of such a price No tree could ever bear them twice...
Página 169 - So much one man can do That does both act and know. They can affirm his praises best, And have, though overcome, confest How good he is, how just And fit for highest trust.

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