Ay fleeth the tyme; it nyl no man abyde.
And thogh youre grene youthe floure as yit,
In crepeth age alwey, as stille as stoon,
And deeth manaceth every age, and smyt
In ech estaat, for ther escapeth noon;
And al so certein as we knowe echoon
That we shul deye, as uncerteyn we alle
Been of that day whan deeth shal on us falle.
Modern English (Prose translation by R.M. Lumiansky):
The time always flees; it will wait for no man. And through you are still in the flower of your young manhood, age creeps on steadily, as quiet as a stone, and death menaces every age and strikes in every rank, for no one escapes. As surely as we know that we will die, so we are uncertain of the day when death shall fall on us.
– Geoffrey Chaucer
The Canterbury Tales, The Clerk’s Tale. Here a representative of Walter’s nobles speaks to him and pleads with him to choose a wife. He is warned that while his green youth if flowering at the moment, age creeps in and death hits people of all ranks and there is no escape.