Chocolette7

To His Coy MistressAndrew MarvellHad we but world enough, and time,This coyness, Lady, were no crimeWe would sit down and think which way To walk and pass our long love’s day. Thou by the Indian Ganges’ sideShouldst rubies find: I by the tideOf Humber would complain. I wouldLove you ten years before the Flood, And you should, if you please, refuseTill the conversion of the Jews. My vegetable love should growVaster than empires, and more slow;An hundred years should go to praiseThine 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 hearTime’s wingèd chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lieDeserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found, Nor, in thy marble vault, shall soundMy echoing song: then worms shall tryThat long preserved virginity,And your quaint honour turn to dust,And into