Category: Andrew Marvell

How vainly men themselves amazeTo win the Palm, the Oke, or Bayes;And their uncessant Labours seeCrown’d from some single Herb or Tree.Whose short and narrow vergèd ShadeDoes prudently their Toyles upbraid;While all Flow’rs and all Trees do closeTo weave the Garlands of repose.Fair quiet, have I found thee here,And Innocence thy Sister dear!Mistaken long, I… →