Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE CORONET, by ANDREW MARVELL

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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE CORONET, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: When for the thorns which I long, too long
Last Line: May crown thy feet, that could not crown thy head.
Subject(s): Cross, The; Flowers

When for the thorns with which I long, too long,
With many a piercing wound,
My Savior's head have crowned,
I seek with garlands to redress that wrong;
Through every garden, every mead,
I gather flowers (my fruits are only flowers)
Dismantling all the fragrant towers
That once adorned my shepherdess's head.
And now when I have summed up all my store,
Thinking (so I myself deceive)
So rich a chaplet thence to weave
As never yet the king of glory wore;
Alas I find the serpent old
That, twining in his speckled breast,
About the flowers disguised doth fold,
With wreaths of fame and interest.
Ah, foolish man, that wouldst debase with them,
And mortal glory, heaven's diadem!
But Thou hwo only couldst the serpent tame,
Either slippery knots at once untie,
And disentangle all his winding snare;
Or shatter too with him my curious frame,
And let these wither, so that he may die,
Though set with skill and chosen out with care,
Thay they, while Thou on both their spoils dost tread,
May crown Thy feet, that could not crown Thy head.

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