| 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 Loves Day. | |
| Thou by the Indian Ganges side | 5 |
| Should'st Rubies find: I by the Tide | |
| Of Humber would complain. I would | |
| Love you ten years before the Flood: | |
| And you should if you please refuse | |
| Till the Conversion of the Jews. | 10 |
| My vegetable Love should grow | |
| Vaster then Empires, and more slow. | |
| An hundred years should go to praise | |
| Thine Eyes, and on thy Forehead Gaze. | |
| Two hundred to adore each Breast: | 15 |
| But thirty thousand to the rest. | |
| An Age at least to every part, | |
| And the last Age should show your Heart. | |
| For Lady you deserve this State; | |
| Nor would I love at lower rate. | 20 |
| But at my back I alwaies hear | |
| Times winged Charriot hurrying near: | |
| And yonder all before us lye | |
| Desarts of vast Eternity. | |
| Thy Beauty shall no more be found; | 25 |
| Nor, in thy marble Vault, shall sound | |
| My ecchoing Song: then Worms shall try | |
| That long preserv'd Virginity: | |
| And your quaint Honour turn to dust; | |
| And into ashes all my Lust. | 30 |
| The Grave's a fine and private place, | |
| But none I think do there embrace. | |
| Now therefore, while the youthful hew | |
| Sits on thy skin like morning [dew] | |
| And while thy willing Soul transpires | 35 |
| At every pore with instant Fires, | |
| Now let us sport us while we may; | |
| And now, like am'rous birds of prey, | |
| Rather at once our Time devour, | |
| Than languish in his slow-chapt pow'r. | 40 |
| Let us roll all our Strength, and all | |
| Our sweetness, up into one Ball: | |
| And tear our Pleasures with rough strife, | |
| Thorough the Iron gates of Life. | |
| Thus, though we cannot make our Sun | 45 |
| Stand still, yet we will make him run. | |
| |
