To His Coy Mistress

To His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell

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, and you should, if you please, refuse till the conversion of the Jews.

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

An hundred years should go to praise thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;

Two hundred to adore each breast; 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.