Gather The Flowers, But Spare The Buds.

What Wondrous Life Is This I Lead! Ripe Apples Drop About My Head.

Thus, Though We Cannot Make Our Sun Stand Still, Yet We Will Make Him Run

How Fit He Is To Sway That Can So Well Obey.

Had We But World Enough, And Time, This Coyness Lady Were No Crime. We Would Sit Down, And Think Which Way To Walk, And Pass Our Long Love's Day. Thou By The Indian Ganges'side Shouldst Rubies Find: I By The Tide Of Humber Would Complain. I Would Love You Ten Years Before The Flood.

How Could Such Sweet And Wholesome Hours Be Reckoned, But In Herbs And Flowers?