Robert Herrick (1591–1674)

FAIRE Daffodills, we weep to see

You haste away so soone;

As yet the early rising sun

Has not attain’d his noone.

Stay, stay,

Untill the hasting day

Has run

But to the even-song;

And, having pray’d together, we

Will goe with you along.

We have short time to stay as you,

We have as short a spring;

As quick a growth to meet decay,

As you, or any thing.

We die

As your hours doe, and drie

Away,

Like to the summer’s raine;

Or as the pearles of morning’s dew,

Ne’er to be found againe.