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The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains--Beautiful!
I linger yet with read more
The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains--Beautiful!
I linger yet with Nature, for the night
Hath been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness
I learn'd the language of another world.
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.
A decision made at night may be changed in the morning.
A decision made at night may be changed in the morning.
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!
Most glorious night!
Thou wert not sent for slumber!
Most glorious night!
Thou wert not sent for slumber!
The night walked down the sky with the moon in her hand.
The night walked down the sky with the moon in her hand.
Night's black Mantle covers all alike.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,
Night's black Mantle covers all alike.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,
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.
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,
