Quotation by Andrew Marvell

Here at the fountain's sliding foot,
Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root,
Casting the body's vest aside,
My soul into the boughs does glide:
There, like a bird, it sits and sings,
Then whets and combs its silver wings,
And, till prepared for longer flights,
Waves in its plumes the various light.
Andrew Marvell (1621–1678), British poet. The Garden (l. 49–56). . .

The Complete Poems [Andrew Marvell]. Elizabeth Story Donno, ed. (1972, repr. 1985) Penguin.
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