Ode to Cassandra

Darling, let's go see if the rose
That this morning did disclose
Its dress of purple to the sun
Has not lost at all this vespers
The folds of its empurpled dress,
And its tint to yours akin.

Alas! see how in a little space,
Darling, it has upon the place
Alas, alas, let drop its beauties!
O truly wicked stepmother Nature,
Since such a flower lasts no more
Than from morning unto eve!

Thus, darling, if you believe me,
While the bloom is on your years
In its freshest novelty,
Gather, gather your young age:
As upon this flower, old age
Will come to tarnish all your beauty.

 

 Pierre de Ronsard