The moments employed for heaven;
Oh, few and evil thy days have been,
Thy life, a toilsome but worthless scene,
For a nobler purpose given.
Will the shade go back on thy dial plate?
Will thy sun stand still on his way?
Both hasten on, and thy spirit's fate
Rests on the point of life's little date,
Then live while 'tis called to–day.
Life's waning hours, like the Sybil's page,