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Todayapos;s poem is To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time by Robert Herrick.

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 glorius lamp of heaven, the Sun,
The higher heapos;s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer heapos;s to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, the 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.

I spent the day at the Renaissance Fair, chaperoning a 5th grade field trip, so wasnapos;t able to devote as much time and thought to this poem as I would have liked. The fair was fabulous and lots of fun and the kids were awesomely behaved on the bus, so much so, that I didnapos;t need either of the headache pills that I packed in my bag. I read the poem to myself many times during the five hours spent on the bus (to and from the fair) and even managed to read it outloud once while the kids were engrossed in a movie and my fellow chaperone was dozing in the seat next to me.

I like the poem, especially the "glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun," and the first stanza. The passage of time and how fast it passes us by, was very eloquently put, I thought.

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