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George Herbert - Life
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I made a posie, while the day ran by:   
Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie   
                       My life within this band. 
But time did beckon to the flowers, and they   
By noon most cunningly did steal away
                       And wither`d in my hand.   
   
My hand was next to them, and then my heart:   
I took, without more thinking, in good part   
                       Times gentle admonition:   
Who did so sweetly deaths sad taste convey
Making my minde to smell my fatal day;   
                       Yet sugring the suspicion.   
   
Farewell deare flowers, sweetly your time ye spent,   
Fit, while ye liv`d, for smell or ornament,   
                       And after death for cures.
I follow straight without complaints or grief,   
Since if my sent be good, I care not, if   
                       It be as short as yours.
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