Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/306

 ROBERT HERRICK

Our life is short, and our days run As fast away as does the sun.

And, as a vapour or a drop of rain,

Once lost, can ne'er be found again, So when or you or I are made A fable, song, or fleeting shade, All love, all liking, all delight Lies drown'd with us in endless night.

Then, while time serves, and we are but decaying,

Come, my Corinna, come, let 's go a-Maying.

��256 To the Virginsy to make much of Time

1 ATHER ye rosebuds 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.

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