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 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 for ever tarry.
To The Virgins, Make Much Of Time
Robert Herrick
(1)
Poem topics: flower, heaven, lost, rose, sun, lamp, worst, prime, succeed, Valentine's Day, youth, time, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
<< A Panegyric To Sir Lewis Pemberton Poem
To His Honoured And Most Ingenious Friendmr Charles Cotton Poem>>