English hunter him mistake, Nor lay his hands a near The Caledonian deer. But thou, the war's and fortune's son, March indefatigably on; And, for the last effect, Still keep the sword erect. Besides the force, it has to fright The spirits of the shady night: The same arts that did gain A power, must it maintain.
Marvell was never married.
The modern critic, who affirms that bachelors have done the most to exalt women into a divinity, might have quoted his extravagant panegyric of Maria Fairfax as an apt illustration:—
Tis she that to these gardens gave The wondrous beauty which they have; She straitness on the woods bestows, To her the meadow sweetness owes; Nothing could make the river be So crystal pure but only she,— She, yet more pure, sweet, strait, and fair, Than gardens, woods, meads, rivers are! Therefore, what first she on them spent They gratefully again present: The meadow carpets where to tread, The garden flowers to crown her head, And for a glass the limpid b