Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE UNFORTUNATE LOVER, by ANDREW MARVELL Poem Explanation Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Alas! How pleasant are the days Last Line: In a field stable, a lover gules. Subject(s): Love | ||||||||
Alas! how pleasant are the days, With whom the infant love yet plays! Sorted by pairs, they still are seen By fountains cool and shadows green; But soon these flames do lose their light, Like meteors of a summer's night; Nor can they to that region climb, To make impression upon Time. 'Twas in a shipwreck, when the seas Ruled, and the winds did what they please, That my poor lover floating lay, And, ere brought forth, was cast away; Till at last the master wave Upon the rock his mother drave, And there she split against the stone, In a Caesarian section. The sea him lent these bitter tears, Which at his eyes he always bears, And from the winds the sighs he bore, Which through his surging breast do roar; No day he saw but that which breaks Through frighted clouds in forked streaks, While round the rattling thunder hurled, As at the funeral of the world. While nature to his birth presents This masque of quarreling elements, A numerous fleet of cormorants black, That sailed insulting o'er the wrack, Received into their cruel care The unfortunate and abject heir; Guardians most fit to entertain The orphan of the hurricane. They fed him up with hopes and air, Which soon digested to despair, And as one cormorant fed him, still Another on his heart did bill; Thus, while they famish him and feast, He both consumed, and increased, And languished with doubtful breath, The amphibium of life and death. And now, when angry Heaven would Behold a spectacle of blood, Fortune and he are called to play At sharp before it all day, And tyrant Love his breast does ply With all his winged artillery, Whilst he, betwixt the flames and waves, Like Ajax, the mad tempest braves. See how he nak'd and fierce does stand, Cuffing the thunder with one hand, While with the other he does lock, And grapple, with the stubborn rock, From which he with each wave rebounds, Torn into flames, and ragg'd with wounds; And all he says, a lover drest In his own blood does relish best. This is the only banneret That ever Love created yet; Who, though by the malignant stars, Forced to live in storms and wars, Yet dying, leaves a perfume here, And music within every ear; And he in story only rules, In a field stable, a lover gules. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INVENTION OF LOVE by MATTHEA HARVEY TWO VIEWS OF BUSON by ROBERT HASS A LOVE FOR FOUR VOICES: HOMAGE TO FRANZ JOSEPH HAYDN by ANTHONY HECHT AN OFFERING FOR PATRICIA by ANTHONY HECHT LATE AFTERNOON: THE ONSLAUGHT OF LOVE by ANTHONY HECHT A SWEETENING ALL AROUND ME AS IT FALLS by JANE HIRSHFIELD A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND BODY by ANDREW MARVELL A DROP OF DEW by ANDREW MARVELL AN HORATIAN ODE UPON CROMWELL'S RETURN FROM IRELAND by ANDREW MARVELL |
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