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  •   23  /  24  

    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.

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  5  /  10  

Amende to-day and slack not,
Deythe cometh and warneth not,
Tyme passeth and speketh not.

Amende to-day and slack not,
Deythe cometh and warneth not,
Tyme passeth and speketh not.

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  24  /  43  

Hours fly,
Flowers die.
New days,
New ways,
Pass by.
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Hours fly,
Flowers die.
New days,
New ways,
Pass by.
Love stays.

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  23  /  36  

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!

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  10  /  14  

As the long hours do pass away,
So doth the life of man decay.

As the long hours do pass away,
So doth the life of man decay.

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  12  /  15  

Give God thy heart, thy service, and thy gold; The day wears on,
and time is waxing old.
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Give God thy heart, thy service, and thy gold; The day wears on,
and time is waxing old.
- Unattributed Author,

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  30  /  34  

True as the dial to the sun,
Although it be not shin'd upon.

True as the dial to the sun,
Although it be not shin'd upon.

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  6  /  21  

Our life's a flying shadow, God's the pole,
The index pointing at Him is our soul;
Death read more

Our life's a flying shadow, God's the pole,
The index pointing at Him is our soul;
Death the horizon, when our sun is set,
Which will through Christ a resurrection get.

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  8  /  14  

Live ye, he says, I flee.

Live ye, he says, I flee.

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  6  /  11  

In the day, do the day's work.

In the day, do the day's work.

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