Had we but world enough, and time,

　　This coyness, Lady, were no crime

　　We would sit down and think which way

　　To walk and pass our long love's day.

　　Thou by the Indian Ganges' side

　　Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide

　　Of Humber would complain. I would

　　Love you ten years before the Flood,

　　And you should, if you please, refuse

　　Till the conversion of the Jews.

　　My vegetable love should grow

　　Vaster than empires, and more slow;

　　An hundred years should go to praise

　　Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;

　　Two hundred to adore each breast,

　　But thirty thousand to the rest;

　　An age at least to every part,

　　And the last age should show your heart.

　　For, Lady, you deserve this state,

　　Nor would I love at lower rate.