Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run

My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow.

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 Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the flood.

No white nor red was ever seen So am'rous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress' name. Little, alas, they know or heed How far these beauties hers exceed! Fair trees! where s'e'er your barks I wound, No name shall but your own be found.

And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept their time.

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.

Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard reigns