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Andrew Marvell

An Epitaph

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 so allowed,
Of virtue or ashamed or proud;
That her soul was on Heaven so bent,
No minute but it came and went;
That, ready her last debt to pay,
She summ'd her life up every day;
Modest as morn, as mid-day bright,
Gentle as evening, cool as night:
—'Tis true; but all too weakly said.
'Twas more significant, she's dead.

 
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About the poet
Andrew Marvell
 
By the same poet
To His Coy Mistress
An Horation Ode upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland
A Garden: Written after the Civil Wars
The Definition of Love
The Picture of Little T.C. in a Prospect of Flowers
Thoughts in a Garden
Bermudas
 
Related books
Andrew Marvell at amazon.com


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