Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Old time is still a-flying

And same flower that smiles today

Tomorrow will be dying

The glorious lamp of heave 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 that is the first

When youth and blood are warmer

But being spent the worseand worst

Times still succeed the former

Then be not coy but use your time

And wile ye may go marry

For having lost but once your prime

You may for ever tarry