Astrophil and Stella 1: The speaker seeks to express his love for Stella through verse in hopes that it will make her pity him and return his affection, but struggles to find the right words to convey his pain.
To His Coy Mistress: The speaker urges his mistress to make love now rather than wait, citing that time is fleeting and one day both their beauty and lives will be lost to time and death.
Three Years She Grew: Nature watches over a young girl for three years, nurturing her growth into a beautiful woman, but the girl suddenly dies, leaving Nature with only memories of
Astrophil and Stella 1: The speaker seeks to express his love for Stella through verse in hopes that it will make her pity him and return his affection, but struggles to find the right words to convey his pain.
To His Coy Mistress: The speaker urges his mistress to make love now rather than wait, citing that time is fleeting and one day both their beauty and lives will be lost to time and death.
Three Years She Grew: Nature watches over a young girl for three years, nurturing her growth into a beautiful woman, but the girl suddenly dies, leaving Nature with only memories of
Astrophil and Stella 1: The speaker seeks to express his love for Stella through verse in hopes that it will make her pity him and return his affection, but struggles to find the right words to convey his pain.
To His Coy Mistress: The speaker urges his mistress to make love now rather than wait, citing that time is fleeting and one day both their beauty and lives will be lost to time and death.
Three Years She Grew: Nature watches over a young girl for three years, nurturing her growth into a beautiful woman, but the girl suddenly dies, leaving Nature with only memories of
Astrophil and Stella 1: The speaker seeks to express his love for Stella through verse in hopes that it will make her pity him and return his affection, but struggles to find the right words to convey his pain.
To His Coy Mistress: The speaker urges his mistress to make love now rather than wait, citing that time is fleeting and one day both their beauty and lives will be lost to time and death.
Three Years She Grew: Nature watches over a young girl for three years, nurturing her growth into a beautiful woman, but the girl suddenly dies, leaving Nature with only memories of
Astrophil and Stella 1: Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show
BY SIR PHIL IP S IDNEY
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show, That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,— Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,— I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe; Studying inventions fine her wits to entertain, Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburn'd brain. But words came halting forth, wanting invention's stay; Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows; And others' feet still seem'd but strangers in my way. Thus great with child to speak and helpless in my throes, Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite, "Fool," said my Muse to me, "look in thy heart, and write."
To His Coy Mistress
BY ANDRE W M ARVELL 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 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. 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 honour turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust; The grave’s a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace. 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 amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour Than languish in his slow-chapped power. 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.
Three Years She Grew
BY WILLIAM WORDSWO RT H Three years she grew in sun and shower, Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This Child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A Lady of my own.
"Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse: and with me The Girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain.
"She shall be sportive as the fawn
That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things.
"The floating clouds their state shall lend
To her; for her the willow bend; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form By silent sympathy.
"The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
"And vital feelings of delight
Shall rear her form to stately height, Her virgin bosom swell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give While she and I together live Here in this happy dell."
Thus Nature spake—The work was done—
How soon my Lucy's race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be.
