To the Virgins , to make much of Time. Robert Herrick.

Gather ye rose buds while ye may ,
Old time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day ,
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 the 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.