The Watch’s Moments.

“See how the moments pass,
How swift they fly away!
In the instructive glass
Behold thy life’s decay.
Oh! waste not then thy prime
In sin’s pernicious road;
Redeem thy misspent time,
Acquaint thyself with God.
So when thy pulse shall cease
Its throbbing transient play,
The soul to realms of bliss
May wing its joyful way.”
“Deign, lady fair, this watch to wear,
To mark how moments fly;
For none a moment have to spare,
Who in a moment die.”

To a Lady with the Present of a Watch.

“With me while present, may thy lovely eyes,
Be never turned upon this golden toy;
Think every pleasing hour too swiftly flies,
And measure time by joy succeeding joy.
But when the cares that interrupt our bliss,
To me not always will thy sight allow,
Then oft with fond impatience look on this,
Then every minute count—as I do now.”
“Time is thou hast, employ the portion small;
Time past is gone, thou canst not it recall;
Time future is not, and may never be;
Time present is the only time for thee.”
“Watch against evil thoughts
Watch against idle words;
Watch against sinful ways;
Watch against wicked actions.
What I say unto you I say unto all, Watch.”

The following lines have a sand-glass engraved between the first four and the last four lines:

“Mark the rapid motion
Of this timepiece; hear it say,
Man, attend to thy salvation;
Time does quickly pass away.
Why, heedless of the warning
Which my tinkling sound doth give,
Do forget, vain frame adorning,
Man thou art not born to live?”

On a sun-dial the following verse has been found engraved:

“Once at a potent leader’s voice it stayed;
Once it went back when a good monarch prayed;
Mortals! howe’er ye grieve, howe’er deplore,
The flying shadow shall return no more.”

This was found under an hour-glass in a grotto near water:

“This babbling stream not uninstructive flows,
Nor idly loiters to its destined main;
Each flower it feeds that on its margin grows,
Now bids thee blush, whose days are spent in vain.
Nor void of moral, though unheeded glides
Time’s current, stealing on with silent haste;
For lo! each falling sand his folly chides,
Who lets one precious moment run to waste.”