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Supposed to be engraved on the face of an ancient sun-dial.

Look up! Ye can but trace
Upon my time-worn face,
The moving shade that tells of perish'd hours;
Youth hath grown old and gray,
Ages have passed away,
Since first I stood within these blooming bow'rs.

Look up! For here below
Man's heritage is wo,
And all he love each hour but helps to sever;
Yea, firm-set rocks shall fall,
The proud baronial hall,—
'Tis mutability that reigneth ever.

But He who guides the sun,
Will, when thy course is run,
Unfold to thee eternity's wide scope;
Will give thy spirit wings,
Soaring from earthly things,
And fading joys; look up, look up, and hope.