How vainly men 
themselves amaze 
To win the palm, the oak or 
bays, 
And their incessant labours see 
Crowned from some single herb 
or tree 
Whose short and narrow-verged 
shade 
Does prudently their toils upbraid; 
While all the flowers and trees do close 
n, To weave the garlands of Repose. 
L/S 
e 
Fair Quiet, have I found you here, 
And Innocence, thy sister dear? 
Mistaken long, I sought them then 
In busy companies of men: Cp 
Your sacred plants, if here below, a 
Only among the plants will grow: 
Society is all but rude 6 
To this delicious solitude. 
ANDREW MARVELL. 
