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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.
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.
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!
Let others tell of storms and showers,
I'll only mark your sunny hours.
Let others tell of storms and showers,
I'll only mark your sunny hours.
"Horas non numero nisi serenas."
There stands in the garden of old St. Mark
A sun dial read more
"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.
Begone about your business.
Begone about your business.
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 am moved by the light.
[Lat., A lumine motus.]
I am moved by the light.
[Lat., A lumine motus.]
