Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying, And the same flower that smiles today, Tomorrow will

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying,
And the same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying,

And the 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.



_To the Virgins, to Make Much of time by Robert Herrick

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