Now, Now, The Mirth Comes - The Hymns and Carols of Christmas

To the Virgins, to make much of Time.
Gather
ye Rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a flying:
And this same flower that smiles to day,
To morrow will be dying.
2. The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun,
The higher he's a getting;
The sooner will his Race be run,
And neerer he's to Setting.
3. 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.
4. Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, goe marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.
Note: A portion of this poem is cited in the text above.
No Paines, no Gaines.
If little labour, little are our gaines:
Mans fortunes are according to his paines.
Christmas Poetry By Robert Herrick
Note: Until I read Hesperides, I had not known the origin of this often-quoted title or the full
text. I include the couplet to clarify Herrick's intent, since it is usually misused.
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