Poems, by Andrew Marvell

Climb at Court for me that will

Tottering Favour’s slipp’ry hill.

All I seek is to lye still.

Settled in some secret Nest

In calm Leisure let me rest;

And far off the publick Stage

Pass away my silent Age.

Thus when without noise, unknown,

I have liv’d out all my span,

I shall dye, without a groan,

An old honest Country man.

Who expos’d to others Eyes,

Into his own Heart ne’r pry’s,

Death to him’s a Strange surprise.