Eyes And Tears
How
wisely
Nature
did
decree,
With
the
same
Eyes
to
weep
and
see!
That,
having
view'd
the
object
vain,
They
might
be
ready
to
complain.
And
since
the
Self-deluding
Sight,
In
a
false
Angle
takes
each
hight;
These
Tears
which
better
measure
all,
Like
wat'ry
Lines
and
Plummets
fall.
Two
Tears,
which
Sorrow
long
did
weigh
Within
the
Scales
of
either
Eye,
And
then
paid
out
in
equal
Poise,
Are
the
true
price
of
all
my
Joyes.
What
in
the
World
most
fair
appears,
Yea
even
Laughter,
turns
to
Tears:
And
all
the
Jewels
which
we
prize,
Melt
in
these
Pendants
of
the
Eyes.
I
have
through
every
Garden
been,
Amongst
the
Red,the
White,
the
Green;
And
yet,
from
all
the
flow'rs
I
saw,
No
Hony,
but
these
Tears
could
draw.
So
the
all-seeing
Sun
each
day
Distills
the
World
with
Chymick
Ray;
But
finds
the
Essence
only
Showers,
Which
straight
in
pity
back
he
powers.
Yet
happy
they
whom
Grief
doth
bless,
That
weep
the
more,
and
see
the
less:
And,
to
preserve
their
Sight
more
true,
Bath
still
their
Eyes
in
their
own
Dew.
So
Magdalen,
in
Tears
more
wise
Dissolv'd
those
captivating
Eyes,
Whose
liquid
Chains
could
flowing
meet
To
fetter
her
Redeemers
feet.
Not
full
sailes
hasting
loaden
home,
Nor
the
chast
Ladies
pregnant
Womb,
Nor
Cynthia
Teeming
show's
so
fair,
As
two
Eyes
swoln
with
weeping
are.
The
sparkling
Glance
that
shoots
Desire,
Drench'd
in
these
Waves,
does
lose
it
fire.
Yea
oft
the
Thund'rer
pitty
takes
And
here
the
hissing
Lightning
slakes.
The
Incense
was
to
Heaven
dear,
Not
as
a
Perfume,
but
a
Tear.
And
Stars
shew
lovely
in
the
Night,
But
as
they
seem
the
Tears
of
Light.
Ope
then
mine
Eyes
your
double
Sluice,
And
practise
so
your
noblest
Use.
For
others
too
can
see,
or
sleep;
But
only
humane
Eyes
can
weep.
Now
like
two
Clouds
dissolving,
drop,
And
at
each
Tear
in
distance
stop:
Now
like
two
Fountains
trickle
down:
Now
like
two
floods
o'return
and
drown.
Thus
let
your
Streams
o'reflow
your
Springs,
Till
Eyes
and
Tears
be
the
same
things:
And
each
the
other's
difference
bears;
These
weeping
Eyes,
those
seeing
Tears.
Andrew Marvell
Andrew Marvell, (born March 31, 1621, Winestead, Yorkshire, England—died August 18, 1678, London), English poet whose political reputation overshadowed that of his poetry until the 20th century. He is now considered to be one of the best Metaphysical poets. Marvell spent most of the 1650s working as a tutor, first for Mary Fairfax, daughter of a retired Cromwellian general, then for one of Oliver Cromwell’s wards. Scholars believe that Marvell’s greatest lyrics were written during this time. In 1657, due to John Milton’s efforts on his behalf, Marvell was appointed Milton’s Latin secretary, a post Marvell held until his election to Parliament in 1660.