Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.
☛ I am not srsly Neil Perry, nor am I Robert Sean Leonard, nor do I own any of the poets or poems or other stuff that is clearly not mine that might come up in the course of playing, Walt Whitman or misquoted Thoreau or Shakespeare, etc. etc. Dead Poets Society is an awesome movie but I don't own that either. This is a roleplaying journal, entirely a work of fiction, and I am not making any money.
☛ Journal layout created by milou_veronica, with a thousand thanks, modified by me
☛ Icons are mine~ I don't mind if you use them but I'd be much obliged if you'd credit me-- and if you don't mind, drop me a comment to let me know :3