"Horas non numero nisi serenas."
There stands in the garden of old St. Mark
A sun dial quaint and gray.
It takes no heed of the hours which in dark
Pass o'er it day by day.
It has stood for ages amid the flowers
In that land of sky and song.
"I number none but the cloudless hours,"
Its motto the live day long.
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O God! methinks it were a happy life
To be no better than a homely swain;
To read more
O God! methinks it were a happy life
To be no better than a homely swain;
To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
To carve out dials, quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes, how they run--
How many makes the hour full complete,
How many hours brings about the day,
How many days will finish up the year,
How many years a mortal man may live;
When this is known, then to divide the times--
So many hours must I tend my flock,
So many hours must I take my rest,
So many hours must I contemplate,
So many hours must I sport myself;
So many days my ewes have been with young,
So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean,
So many months ere I shall shear the fleece.
So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years,
Passed over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this!
If o'er the dial glides a shade, redeem
The time for lo! it passes like a dream;
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If o'er the dial glides a shade, redeem
The time for lo! it passes like a dream;
But if 'tis all a blank, then mark the loss
Of hours unblest by shadows from the cross.
Live ye, he says, I flee.
Live ye, he says, I flee.
In the day, do the day's work.
In the day, do the day's work.
Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your
wrath: Neither give place to read more
Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your
wrath: Neither give place to the devil.
True as the needle to the pole,
Or as the dial to the sun.
True as the needle to the pole,
Or as the dial to the sun.
I go away and come again each day,
But thou shalt go away and ne'er return.
I go away and come again each day,
But thou shalt go away and ne'er return.
I am moved by the light.
[Lat., A lumine motus.]
I am moved by the light.
[Lat., A lumine motus.]
Once at a potent leader's voice I stayed;
Once I went back when a good monarch prayed;
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Once at a potent leader's voice I stayed;
Once I went back when a good monarch prayed;
Mortals, howe'er we grieve, howe'er deplore,
The flying shadow will return no more.
