If these the Times, then this must be the Man. [Andrew Marvell on Oliver Cromwell] - Andrew Marvell

But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.

For Juliana comes, and she, what I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.

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.