User:FloNight/To My Coy Wikipedia

 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
 * Shoulds't rubies find: I by the tide
 * Oh 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.
 * No 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 wing'ed chariot hurrying near
 * And yonder all before us lie
 * Deserts of vast eternity.
 * Thy duty 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-chapt 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.
 * --Andrew Marvell