Gather ye rosebuds 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;

Expect not the last and worst,

Time still succeeds 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.

-Robert Herrick