Andrew Marvell Quotes

Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide: There, like a bird, it sits and sings, Then whets and combs its silver wings, And, till prepared for longer flights, Waves in its plumes the various light.
Andrew Marvell (1621-1678), British poet. The Garden (l. 49-56). . . The Complete Poems [Andrew Marvell]. Elizabeth Story Donno, ed. (1972, repr. 1985) Penguin.
(0) (2)
The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas.
Andrew Marvell (1621-1678), British metaphysical poet. The Garden, st. 6 (written c. 1650, published 1681).
(1) (1)