To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

BY PAUL FORD April 29, 2002

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may...

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may...

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 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.

From Nebula High, who writes: “I discovered this poem while I was doing an assignment for my AP Lit class and fell in love with it. I wrote about 4 pages just about this poem. Very 'Carpe Diem,' which makes me love it even more. Beauty and a message, all in one package. How much better could a poem get?”

From Nebula High, who writes: “I discovered this poem while I was doing an assignment for my AP Lit class and fell in love with it. I wrote about 4 pages just about this poem. Very 'Carpe Diem,' which makes me love it even more. Beauty and a message, all in one package. How much better could a poem get?”