Music, the mosaic of the air - Andrew Marvell

To wander solitary there:
Two paradises ‘twere in one
To live in paradise alone.

What wondrous life in this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach; Stumbling on melons, as I pass, Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.

My love is of a birth as rare As 'tis for object strange and high; It was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility.