Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon:
As yet the early rising sun
Has not attaine'd his noon.
Stay, stay,
Until the hasting day
Has run
But to evensong;
And, having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.
We have a short time to stay, as you.
We have as short a Spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or anything.
We die,
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the summer's rain;
Or as the pearls of morning dew
Ne'er to be found again!

-Benjamin Britten, To Daffodils