Those only in that record write
Which virtue like the sun makes bright.
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.
INSCRIPTION OVER A SPRING.
Whoe’er thou art that stays’st to quaff
The streams that here from waters dim
Arise to fill thy cup and laugh