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Robert Herrick

'Gather ye rose-buds'

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.