Gather Ye Roses
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Gather ye roses while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying;
A world where beauty fleets away
Is no world for denying.
Come lads and lasses, fall to play
Lose no more time in sighing
The very flowers you pluck to-day
To-morrow will be dying;
And all the flowers are crying,
And all the leaves have tongues to say,-
Gather ye roses while ye may.
The poetry Friday round-up is at AmoXcalli today.
Edited to add:
There seems to be another poem very similar to the one I posted above. I'll post that one too.
Edited to add:
There seems to be another poem very similar to the one I posted above. I'll post that one too.
To the Virgins, to make much of Time
Robert Herrick. 1591–1674
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.
8 comments:
Are all of those in your garden? (If not, you, like me, are wishing!)
Yes, actually, those are all from my garden (in the Spring)
Beautiful roses -- but, um, I think it's Robert Herrick, not Robert Louis Stevenson?
There is a very similar poem by Robert Herrick - but this one does seem to be by Robert Louis Stevenson.
What a gorgeous collection of roses and poems!
Absoultely beautiful poems and it makes want to plant acres and acres of antique roses in my garden. Thank you for sharing!
Here comes this Anonymous guy again. I think I may have a Google password, but it's easier to be Anonymous for now, especially since my foot is still swollen and I don't want to get up again.
The flowers are very nice. I don't really understand how you have time to do all that you do with this blog plus the rest of life. Maybe when I retire I'll write a poem (although, I notice that you didn't write the one under the flowers, some guy by the name of Bob did.) How about Pippi? She can write a poem for you until I get retired.
Dad
Yes, Dad - Pippi could write me some poems - but she was at school. While your foot is swollen and you can't get around - you could write some poems.
Hope your foot feels better soon.
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