"To His Coy Mistress"
By Andrew Marvell

Transcription and markup by Students of Marymount University, Tonya Howe
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London : Printed for Robert Boulter, 1681Page image sourced from the 1681 edition housed in theBritish Library, which also makes available an early manuscript version of the poem.Online: EEBO TCPn.d.Full text of Miscellaneous Poems is available via EEBO TCP.

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Original spelling and capitalization is retained, though the long s has been silently modernized and ligatured forms are not encoded.

Hyphenation has not been retained, except where necessary for the sense of the word.

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Materials have been transcribed from and checked against first editions, where possible. See the Sources section.


Marvell, Andrew. "To His Coy Mistress". Miscellaneous Poems, Printed for Robert Boulter, 1681 , p 19-20 . Literature in Context: An Open Anthology. http://anthology.lib.virginia.edu/work/Marvell/marvell-mistress. Accessed: 2024-07-19T08:19:59.067Z

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[frontispiece] [titlepage] MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

Late Member of the Honourable House of Commons.

Printed for Robert Boulter at the Turks-Head
in Cornhill.
19 To his Coy Mistress. 1Had we but World enough, and Time, 2This coyness Lady were no crime. 3We would sit down, and think which way 4To walk, and pass our long Love’s Day. 5Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side 6Should'st Rubies find; I by the Tide 7Of Humber would complain. I would 8Love you ten years before the Flood: 9And you should if you please refuse 10Till the Conversion of the Jews. 11My vegetable Love should grow 12Vaster than Empires, and more slow. 13An hundred years should go to praise 14Thine Eyes, and on thy Forehead Gaze. 15Two hundred to adore each Breast: 16But thirty thousand to the rest. 17An Age at least to every part, 18And the last Age should show your Heart. 19For Lady you deserve this State; 20Nor would I love at lower rate. 21But at my back I alwaies hear 22Time’s wingèd Charriot hurrying near: 23And yonder all before us lye 24Desarts of vast Eternity. 25Thy Beauty shall no more be found; 26Nor, in thy marble Vault, shall sound 27My echoing Song: then Worms shall try 28That long-preserv'd Virginity: 29And your quaint Honour turn to dust; 30And into ashes all my Lust. 31The Grave’s a fine and private place, 32But none I think do there embrace. 20 33Now therefore, while the youthful hew 34Sits on thy skin like morning glew, 35And while thy willing Soul transpires 36At every pore with instant Fires, 37Now let us sport us while we may; 38And now, like am'rous birds of prey, 39Rather at once our Time devour, 40Than languish in his slow-chapt pow'r. 41Let us roll all our Strength, and all 42Our sweetness, up into one Ball: 43And tear our Pleasures with rough strife, 44Through the Iron gates of Life. 45Thus, though we cannot make our Sun 46Stand still, yet we will make him run.