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Andrew Marvell - The GalleryAndrew Marvell - The Gallery
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Clora come view my Soul, and tell Whether I have contriv`d it well. Now all its several lodgings lye Compos`d into one Gallery; And the great Arras-hangings, made Of various Faces, by are laid; That, for all furniture, you`l find Only your Picture in my Mind. Here Thou art painted in the Dress Of an Inhumane Murtheress; Examining upon our Hearts Thy fertile Shop of cruel Arts: Engines more keen than ever yet Adorned Tyrants Cabinet; Of which the most tormenting are Black Eyes, red Lips, and curled Hair. But, on the other side, th` art drawn Like to Aurora in the Dawn; When in the East she slumb`ring lyes, And stretches out her milky Thighs; While all the morning Quire does sing, And Mamma falls, and Roses spring; And, at thy Feet, the wooing Doves Sit perfecting their harmless Loves. Like an Enchantress here thou show`st, Vexing thy restless Lover`s Ghost; And, by a Light obscure, dost rave Over his Entrails, in the Cave; Divining thence, with horrid Care, How long thou shalt continue fair; And (when inform`d) them throw`st away, To be the greedy Vultur`s prey. But, against that, thou sit`st a float Like Venus in her pearly Boat. The Halcyons, calming all that`s nigh, Betwixt the Air and Water fly. Or, if some rowling Wave appears, A Mass of Ambergris it bears. Nor blows more Wind than what may well Convoy the Perfume to the Smell. These Pictures and a thousand more, Of Thee, my Gallery dost store; In all the Forms thou can`st invent Either to please me, or torment: For thou alone to people me, Art grown a num`rous Colony; And a Collection choicer far Then or White-hall`s, or Mantua`s were. But, of these Pictures and the rest, That at the Entrance likes me best: Where the same Posture, and the Look Remains, with which I first was took. A tender Shepherdess, whose Hair Hangs loosely playing in the Air, Transplanting Flow`rs from the green Hill, To crown her Head, and Bosome fill.
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