Lyrics 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 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 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 forever tarry