You May Also Like / View all maxioms
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.
Time is
Too Slow for those who Wait,
Too Swift for those who Fear,
read more
Time is
Too Slow for those who Wait,
Too Swift for those who Fear,
Too Long for those who Grieve,
Too Short for those who Rejoice;
But for those who Love,
Time is not.
- Henry Jackson van Dyke,
The hour of justice does not strike
On the dials of this world.
[Fr., L'heure de la read more
The hour of justice does not strike
On the dials of this world.
[Fr., L'heure de la justice ne sonne pas
Aux cadrans de ce monde.]
- Maurice Maeterlinck, Measure of the Hours,
I mark my hours by shadow;
Mayest thou mark thine
By sunshine.
I mark my hours by shadow;
Mayest thou mark thine
By sunshine.
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.
I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the
night cometh, when no read more
I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the
night cometh, when no man can work.
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!
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.
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.