Tuesday, July 15, 2008

To The Virgins To Make Much Of Time

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;
But being spent, the worst 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.
By: Robert Herrick


Victoria Rebecca said...

Mia, lovely poem. I will add you to my blogroll. I love your blog

Madison said...

Beautiful poem! I love the picture above it.

Madison from Madison's Musings

Julia said...

Amen! I love the poem. :)
Very pretty picture. Where do you find all these gorgeous victorian/vintage pictures, Mia? They're lovely!
Julia from Julia's Journal