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Two poems by robert herrick and andrew marvell, both encouraging the readers to make the most of their time and live in the present. The poems 'to the virgins, to make much of time' by robert herrick and 'to his coy mistress' by andrew marvell explore the themes of time, love, and mortality.
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Robert Herrick ( 1591 – 1674 ) 1 Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, 2 Old Time is still a-flying; 3 And this same flower that smiles today, 4 Tomorrow will be dying. 5 The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, 6 The higher he’s a-getting; 7 The sooner will his race be run, 8 And nearer he’s to setting. 9 That age is best which is the first, 10 When youth and blood are warmer; 11 But being spent, the worse, and worst 12 Times still succeed the former. 13 Then be not coy, but use your time, 14 And while ye may, go marry; 15 For having lost but once your prime, 16 You may for ever tarry.
Andrew Marvell ( 1621 – 1678 ) 1 Had we but world enough, and time, 2 This coyness, lady, were no crime. 3 We would sit down and think which way 4 To walk, and pass our long love’s day. 5 Thou by the Indian Ganges’º side Ganges River 6 Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide 7 Of Humber^1 would complain. I would 8 Love you ten years before the Flood; 9 And you should, if you please, refuse 10 Till the conversion of the Jews.^2 11 My vegetable^3 love should grow 12 Vaster than empires, and more slow;
13 An hundred years should go to praise 14 Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze; 15 Two hundred to adore each breast, 16 But thirty thousand to the rest: 17 An age at least to every part, 18 And the last age should show your heart. 19 For, lady, you deserve this state,º dignity 20 Nor would I love at lower rate. 21 But at my back I always hear 22 Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near; 23 And yonder all before us lie 24 Deserts of vast eternity. 25 Thy beauty shall no more be found, 26 Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound 27 My echoing song; then worms shall try 28 That long preserved virginity, 29 And your quaint^4 honor turn to dust, 30 And into ashes all my lust: 31 The grave’s a fine and private place, 32 But none, I think, do there embrace. 33 Now therefore, while the youthful hue 34 Sits on thy skin like morning dew, 35 And while thy willing soul transpiresº breathes out 36 At every pore with instant fires, 37 Now let us sport us while we may, 38 And now, like am’rous birds of prey, 39 Rather at once our time devour 40 Than languish in his slow-chappedº power. slowly devouring 41 Let us roll all our strength and all 42 Our sweetness up into one ball, 43 And tear our pleasures with rough strife 44 Thoroughº the iron gates of life: through 45 Thus, though we cannot make our sun 46 Stand still^5 , yet we will make him run.