Page:The West Indies, and Other Poems.djvu/122
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110
THE DIAL.
This shadow on the Dial's face,
That steals from day to day,
With slow, unseen, unceasing pace,
Moments, and months, and years away;—
This shadow, which, in every clime,
Since light and motion first began,
Hath held its course sublime;—
What is it?———Mortal Man!
It is the scythe of Time:
—A shadow only to the eye;
Yet, in its calm career,
It levels all beneath the sky;
And still, through each succeeding year,
That steals from day to day,
With slow, unseen, unceasing pace,
Moments, and months, and years away;—
This shadow, which, in every clime,
Since light and motion first began,
Hath held its course sublime;—
What is it?———Mortal Man!
It is the scythe of Time:
—A shadow only to the eye;
Yet, in its calm career,
It levels all beneath the sky;
And still, through each succeeding year,