Poem of the Week: Andrew Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress"

Time to go old-school, this time all the way back to the 1600s. An oldie, but a goodie.

Andrew Marvell- To His Coy Mistress

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 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 preserv'd 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 am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
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.

Marvell was a MP from Hull during his lifetime, and while I suppose most hardcore Marvell people would not contend that "To His Coy Mistress" is his best poem, its certainly his most famous. (This is normal, I'm a pretty hardcore U2 fan, but if someone told me "With or Without You" was their best song, I might scream.)

Embroiled in the political turmoil of his era (a little bit known as "The English Civil War") Marvell's enemies (he was a King-hating semi-Puritan) accused him of all sorts of things, including being a homosexual (not an uncommon slander). There is some suggestion that he was poisoned to death. Marvell never married, though when he died his housekeeper announced herself as Mrs. Marvell and claimed inheritance. It was then that most of his poems were found.

As everything above might suggest, we have no idea who the "coy mistress" was, or even if she was a she, or existed at all.

For more poems click here.

For more on his biography, click here.

Coming Next Week: Something About Thanksgiving!!