IF the quick spirits in your eye
Now languish and anon must die;
If every sweet and every grace
Must fly from that forsaken face;
Then, Celia, let us reap our joys
Ere Time such goodly fruit destroys.
Or if that golden fleece must grow
For ever free from aged snow;
If those bright suns must know no shade,
Nor your fresh beauties ever fade;
Then fear not, Celia, to bestow
What, still being gather’d, still must grow.
Thus either Time his sickle brings
In vain, or else in vain his wings.
(Thomas Carew)
More Poetry from Thomas Carew:
Thomas Carew Poems based on Topics: Faces, Snow- Epitaph On The Late Mary Villiers (Thomas Carew Poems)
- Epitaph On the Lady Mary Villiers (Thomas Carew Poem)
- To A. L. Persuasions to Love. (Thomas Carew Poem)
- Song. Good Counsel to a Young Maid (Thomas Carew Poem)
- Epitaph for Maria Wentworth (Thomas Carew Poem)
- Another (Thomas Carew Poem)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Faces Poems, Snow PoemsBased on Keywords: beauties, bestow, aged, anon, reap, goodly, forsaken, languish, fleece, sickle, destroys