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To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

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?”


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About the author: I've been running this website from 1997. For a living I write stories and essays, program computers, edit things, and help people launch online publications. (LinkedIn). I wrote a novel. I was an editor at Harper's Magazine for five years; then I was a Contributing Editor; now I am a free agent. I was also on NPR's All Things Considered for a while. I still write for The Morning News, and some other places.

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