Who else gets excited over English?

So this isn't part of my book. For an English assignment I had to write a reply to the poem "To His Coy Mistress." I am really proud of my rough draft and have decided to post it. Tell me what you think! :)

I also posted To his coy mistress so you don't have to go looking it up.

To his Coy Mistress

by Andrew Marvell

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.

        But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserv'd virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.

        Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run

Reply to “To His Coy Mistress” 

by Tabatha Keeler (me)

If you would only understand my love, wonderful and gentle sir, you might stop your poetry and end your evil lure. My love does not include only you, though your shining eyes be crystal blue. My heart loves still my family and of my Christianity. You ask of me to scare the sun but what I desire is that from above. Future children wish I for me, and happiness for them broader than the sea. A river, as the Humber and Ganges be, can still be crossed in all honesty. When first met we ‘neath the blossom tree, I wondered if there were any man better than thee. I love you more than rubies shine, and for you, each day, my heart does pine.

But to every wind there is a shadow that falls upon one’s heart. And only those of closest bond does love not tear apart. You praised me much and asked of me what use is of my virginity. Why asketh me of virginity, for my love is worthy of nobility. You claimed that in the grave two may not embrace but neither I think do so behind hell’s gates. If I were to except your plea of me then there is of an utmost surety, that you will end your time, as many do of your kind. Even as the sun does rise, bringing with it a most blessed warmth, so does it set and leave cold whirling in its torrent.

Now, therefore, must this Coyness end and both of us must part. For not another day will I let you play drunkenly with my heart. What care have I if your lust is turned to ashes, so long as I may avoid sin’s bloody lashes. You have proved yourself unworthy so do you think we should stay, surely? I think not. For without lawful marriage, my life shall never be bought.