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| Robert Herrick |
(1648)
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| To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time | ||||
| Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles today, Tomorrow 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 but once your prime, You may forever tarry. |
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