Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, / Old Time is still a-flying; / And this same flower that smiles today / To-morrow will be dying. Last week Shakespeare, this week Herrick. Apologies for the Renaissance glut, but it’s seasonal. Quite possibly the fault of a misspent youth, when laziness throughout the rest of the year meant I was forced to spend May in the company of Shakespeare, Donne, Sidney, Middleton, Jonson, Kyd and the rest Continue Reading →