To the Virgins, To Make much of Time
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is stil a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’sa-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.
The age is best which is the first
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse nad worst
Times still succeed the former
Then be not coy, but use your tiume,
and while ye may, go merry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
–Robert Herrick
To Blossoms
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,
Why do ye fall so fast?
Your date is not so past
But you may stay here yet awhile,
To blush and gently smile
And go at last.
What, were ye born to be
An hour or a half’s delight,
And so to bid good-night?
'Twas pity Nature brought you forth
Merely ot show your worth
And lose you quite.
But you are lovely leaves, where we
May read how soon things have
Their end, thogh ne’er so brave;
ANd after they hace shown thier pride
Like you a while, they glide
Into the grave.
–Robert Herrick
At least in 17-19th century love poetry flowers always represent the briefness of young love, of sometihng that is beautiful but which must inevitably fade. Growing old in the premodern world was a much more daunting proposition than it it today–by the time you were 30 you had likely gone through a series of painful childbirths, the deaths of several children, the deaths of siblings and parents, several abcesses severe enough to eat into your jaw bone, I would imagene had permanent yeast infection, etc, etc all without an asprin. Many women were advised/chose to be celibate if it became apparent that they wouldn’t survuve another childbirth.
Furthermore, love and lust were much more closely linked–the idea of companionate marrige really started around the mid-17th century and didn’t come into vogue everywhere until the nineteenth. THe idea of two people forming a partnership, tied together by emotion (rather than children and property) against all odds forever nad ever is not a universal or eternal sentiment.
