To the Virgins, Make Much of Time
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying,
And this same flower that smiles today,
To-morrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
and while ye may, go marry;
For having lost just once your prime,
You may for ever tarry. |
| Robert Herrick |
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| Reader Comments |
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| I read your poinstg |
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| Name: Jaylyn | 2014-05-23 |
| I read your poinstg and was jealous |
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