Dignissimo Suo Amico Doctori Wittie. De Translatione Vulgi poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Nempe sic innumero succrescunt agmine libri, Saepia vix toto ut jam natet una mari. Fortius assidui surgunt a vulnere praeli: Quoque magis pressa est, auctior Hydra redit. Heu quibus Anticyris, quibus est sanabilis herbis Improba scribendi pestis, avarus amor! India sola tenet tanti medicamina morbi, Dicitur & nostris ingemuisse malis. Utile Tabacci dedit illa […]
Edmundi Trotii Epitaphium poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Charissimo Filio Edmundo Trotio Posuimus Pater & Mater Frustra superstites. Legite Parentes, vanissimus hominum ordo, Figuli Filiorum, Substructores Hominum, Fartores Opum, Longi Speratores, Et nostro, si fas, sapite infortunio. Fruit Edmundus Trottuis. E quatuor masculae stirpis residuus, Statura justa, Forma virili, specie eximic, Medio juventutis Robore simul & Flore, Alpectu, In cessu, sermone juxta […]
Daphnis And Chloe poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Daphnis must from Chloe part: Now is come the dismal Hour That must all his Hopes devour, All his Labour, all his Art. Nature, her own Sexes foe, Long had taught her to be coy: But she neither knew t’ enjoy, Nor yet let her Lover go. But, with this sad News surpriz’d, […]
Damon The Mower poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Heark how the Mower Damon Sung, With love of Juliana stung! While ev’ry thing did seem to paint The Scene more fit for his complaint. Like her fair Eyes the day was fair; But scorching like his am’rous Care. Sharp like his Sythe his Sorrow was, And wither’d like his Hopes the Grass. Oh […]
Cromwell’s Return poem – Andrew Marvell poems
An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell’s Return From Ireland The forward youth that would appear Must now forsake his muses dear, Nor in the shadows sing, His numbers languishing. ‘Tis time to leave the books in dust, And oil the unus?d armour’s rust: Removing from the wall The corslet of the hall. So restless Cromwell […]
Clorinda And Damon poem – Andrew Marvell poems
C. Damon come drive thy flocks this way. D. No : ’tis too late they went astray. C. I have a grassy Scutcheon spy’d, Where Flora blazons all her pride. The grass I aim to feast thy Sheep : The Flow’rs I for thy Temples keep. D. Grass withers; and the Flow’rs […]
Bermudas poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Where the remote Bermudas ride In th’ Oceans bosome unespy’d, From a small Boat, that row’d along, The listning Winds receiv’d this Song. What should we do but sing his Praise That led us through the watry Maze, Unto an Isle so long unknown, And yet far kinder than our own? Where he the […]
Blake’s Victory poem – Andrew Marvell poems
On the Victory Obtained by Blake over the Spaniards in the Bay of Santa Cruz, in the Island of Tenerife, 1657 Now does Spain’s fleet her spacious wings unfold, Leaves the New World and hastens for the old: But though the wind was fair, they slowly swum Freighted with acted guilt, and guilt to […]
An Horatian Ode Upon Cromwell’s Return from Ireland poem – Andrew Marvell poems
The forward youth that would appear Must now forsake his Muses dear, Nor in the shadows sing His numbers languishing. ‘Tis time to leave the books in dust, And oil th’ unused armour’s rust, Removing from the wall The corslet of the hall. So restless Cromwell could not cease In the inglorious arts of […]
An Epitaph poem – Andrew Marvell poems
ENOUGH; and leave the rest to Fame! ‘Tis to commend her, but to name. Courtship which, living, she declined, When dead, to offer were unkind: Nor can the truest wit, or friend, Without detracting, her commend. To say–she lived a virgin chaste In this age loose and all unlaced; Nor was, when vice is […]
Ametas And Thestylis Making Hay-Ropes poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Ametas Think’st Thou that this Love can stand, Whilst Thou still dost say me nay? Love unpaid does soon disband: Love binds Love as Hay binds Hay. Thestylis Think’st Thou that this Rope would twine If we both should turn one way? Where both parties so combine, Neither Love will twist nor Hay. […]
Aliter poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Regibus haec posuit Ludovicus Templa futuris; Gratior ast ipsi Castra fuere Domus. *** Poems by Andrew Marvell Andrew Marvell Andrew MarvellAndrew Marvell (1621-1678) was a renowned English poet and politician who lived during the 17th century. He is widely recognized for his skillful […]
A Poem Upon The Death Of O.C. poem – Andrew Marvell poems
That Providence which had so long the care Of Cromwell’s head, and numbred ev’ry hair, Now in its self (the Glass where all appears) Had seen the period of his golden Years: And thenceforth onely did attend to trace, What death might least so sair a Life deface. The People, which what most they […]
A Letter To Doctor Ingelo, then With My Lord Whitlock, Amba poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Quid facis Arctoi charissime transfuga coeli, Ingele, proh sero cognite, rapte cito? Num satis Hybernum defendis pellibus Astrum, Qui modo tam mollis nec bene firmus eras? Quae Gentes Hominum, quae sit Natura Locorum, Sint Homines, potius dic ibi sintre Loca? Num gravis horrisono Polus obruit omnia lapsu, Jungitur & praeceps Mundas utraque nive? An […]
A Garden, Written after the Civil Wars poem – Andrew Marvell poems
SEE how the flowers, as at parade, Under their colours stand display’d: Each regiment in order grows, That of the tulip, pink, and rose. But when the vigilant patrol Of stars walks round about the pole, Their leaves, that to the stalks are curl’d, Seem to their staves the ensigns furl’d. Then in some […]
A Dialogue Between Thyrsis And Dorinda poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Dorinda When Death, shall snatch us from these Kids, And shut up our divided Lids, Tell me Thyrsis, prethee do, Whither thou and I must go. Thyrsis To the Elizium: (Dorinda) oh where i’st? Thyrsis A Chast Soul, can never mis’t. Dorinda I know no way, but one, our home Is our […]
A Dialogue Between The Soul And Body poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Soul O Who shall, from this Dungeon, raise A Soul inslav’d so many wayes? With bolts of Bones, that fetter’d stands In Feet ; and manacled in Hands. Here blinded with an Eye ; and there Deaf with the drumming of an Ear. A Soul hung up, as ’twere, in Chains Of Nerves, and […]
A Dialogue, Between the Resolved Soul, And Created Pleasure poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Courage my Soul, now learn to wield The weight of thine immortal Shield. Close on thy Head thy Helmet bright. Ballance thy Sword against the Fight. See where an Army, strong as fair, With silken Banners spreads the air. Now, if thou bee’st that thing Divine, In this day’s Combat let it shine: And […]
John Milton As Author of Pornographic Verse: An Extempore Upon a Faggot
Did John Milton write filthy, innuendo-laden rhyme? The piece originally appeared in the Guardian, a British propagandist rag of leftish leanings. But the authorship of the poem is unknown, it was possibly written John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester, and not Milton. You’ll find more poems by John Milton here as well as a short […]
When the Assault Was Intended to the City poem – John Milton poems
Captain, or colonel, or knight in arms, Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, If deed of honour did thee ever please, Guard them, and him within protect from harms. He can requite thee, for he knows the charms That call fame on such gentle acts as these, And he can spread thy […]
Upon The Circumcision poem – John Milton poems
Ye flaming Powers, and winged Warriours bright, That erst with Musick, and triumphant song First heard by happy watchful Shepherds ear, So sweetly sung your Joy the Clouds along Through the soft silence of the list’ning night; Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear Your fiery essence can distill no tear, […]
To the Same poem – John Milton poems
Cyriack, this three years’ day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven’s hand or will, […]
To The Nightingale poem – John Milton poems
O Nightingale! that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the lover’s heart dost fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo’s bill, Portend success in love; O, […]
To the Lord Generall Cromwell May 1652 poem – John Milton poems
On The Proposalls Of Certaine Ministers At The Committee For Propagation Of The Gospell Cromwell, our cheif of men, who through a cloud Not of warr onely, but detractions rude, Guided by faith & matchless Fortitude To peace & truth thy glorious way hast plough’d, And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud Hast […]
To the Lady Margaret Ley poem – John Milton poems
Daughter to that good Earl, one President Of England’s Council and her Treasury, Who lived in both unstained with gold or fee, And left them both, more in himself content, Till the sad breaking of that Parliament Broke him, as that dishonest victory At Ch?ronea, fatal to liberty, Killed with report that old man […]
To Sr Henry Vane The Younger poem – John Milton poems
Vane, young in yeares, but in sage counsell old, Then whome a better Senatour nere held The helme of Rome, when gownes not armes repelld The feirce Epeirot & the African bold, Whether to settle peace, or to unfold The drift of hollow states, hard to be spelld, Then to advise how warr may […]
To My Lord Fairfax poem – John Milton poems
Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings, And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise, And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze. And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings, Thy firm unshaken Valour ever brings Victory home, while new Rebellions raise Their Hydra-heads, and the false North displays Her broken League to […]
To Mr. Lawrence poem – John Milton poems
Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius reinspire The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh […]
To Mr. H. Lawes on His Airs poem – John Milton poems
Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song First taught our English music how to span Words with just note and accent, not to scan With Midas’ ears, committing short and long, Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, With praise enough for Envy to look wan; To after age thou shalt be writ […]
To Mr. Cyriack Skinner Upon His Blindness poem – John Milton poems
Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear To outward view, of blemish or of spot; Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot, Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year, Or man or woman. Yet I argue not Against heavns hand or will, […]
To a Virtuous Young Lady poem – John Milton poems
Lady! that in the prime of earliest youth Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the green, And with those few art eminently seen, That labour up the Hill of Heavenly Truth, The better part with Mary and with Ruth Chosen thou hast, and they that overween, And at thy growing virtues fret their […]
The Passion poem – John Milton poems
I Ere-while of Musick, and Ethereal mirth, Wherwith the stage of Ayr and Earth did ring, And joyous news of heav’nly Infants birth, My muse with Angels did divide to sing; But headlong joy is ever on the wing, In Wintry solstice like the shortn’d light Soon swallow’d up in dark and long out-living […]
The Hymn poem – John Milton poems
I It was the Winter wilde, While the Heav’n-born-childe, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature in aw to him Had doff’t her gawdy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour. II Only with […]
The Fifth Ode Of Horace. Lib. I poem – John Milton poems
Quis multa gracilis te puer in Rosa Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the Latin Measure, as near as the Language permit. WHAT slender Youth bedew’d with liquid odours Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave, Pyrrha for whom bind’st thou In wreaths thy golden Hair, Plain in thy neatness; […]
Sonnet to the Nightingale poem – John Milton poems
O nightingale that on yon blooming spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hopes the Lover’s heart dost fill, While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo’s bill, Portend success in love. O […]
Sonnet 23 poem – John Milton poems
XXIII Methought I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove’s great son to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint Purification in the Old Law did save, And such, as yet […]
Sonnet 22 poem – John Milton poems
XXII Cyriac, this three years’ day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heav’n’s hand or […]
Sonnet 21 poem – John Milton poems
XXI Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause Pronounced and in his volumes taught our laws, Which others at their bar so often wrench; Today deep thoughts resolve with me to drench In mirth, that after no repenting draws; Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause, And what […]
Sonnet 20 poem – John Milton poems
XX Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire The frozen earth, and clothe in […]
Sonnet 19 poem – John Milton poems
XIX When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide, “Doth God exact […]