Gather Ye Rosebuds After Robert Herrick - To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Gather ye rosebuds all who will,
and yet, though Time’s a-flying,
in one fair head, eternal still,
Life thrives, Death’s grin denying.

The glorious lamp of Heaven, the Sun,
as higher he is getting,
if e’er his praises were begun,
laws seasonal forgetting.

Go[l]d head embarrassed would be hung
as modesty’s essential,
in beauty all eclipsed are, st[r]ung
like pearls inconsequential.

God praises her, both first and last,
each other flits, pale phantom,
she’s envied now by Future, Past,
Life’s summons flows to summum.