I send you here a wreath of blossoms blown,
And woven flowers at sunset gathered,
Another dawn had seen them ruined, and shed
Loose leaves upon the grass at random strown.
By this, their sure example, be it known,
That all your beauties, now in perfect flower,
Shall fade as these, and wither in an hour,
Flowerlike, and brief of days, as the flower sown.
Ah, time is flying, lady - time is flying;
Nay, ’tis not time that flies but we that go,
Who in short space shall be in churchyard lying,
And of our loving parley none shall know,
Nor any man consider what we were;
Be therefore kind, my love, whiles thou art fair.
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Comments2Remember reading this piece for school when I was a kid. Didn't think much of it then, but the lines "Ah, time is flying, lady - time is flying; Nay, ’tis not time that flies but we that go," hit different now. Reminds us all that we ain't immortal.
Such beautiful, yet poignant words. They're a powerful reminder of the fleeting nature of beauty and life itself. Really makes one appreciate the present moment more.