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To the Virgins, to make much of Time.

GATHER 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.

~ Robert Herrick

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Daniel Masters