Vivian's RV Vignettes

Gather ye Rose-buds 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 neerer he’s to Setting.

I had to go soak in some sunshine today before the freeze on Thursday.