To the Virgins to Make Much of Time

歌詞

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, 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. Åh 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. Åh Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, while ye may