And then he drew a dial from his poke,

And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,

Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock:

Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags."

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,

That fools should be so deep-contemplative;

And I did laugh sans intermission

An hour by his dial.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;

In feelings, not in figures on a dial.

We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives

Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.

Life's but a means unto an end; that end

Beginning, mean, and end to all things,—God.

Philip James Bailey (1816-1902): Festus. Scene, A Country Town.

True as the dial to the sun,

Although it be not shin'd upon.

Samuel Butler (1600-1680): Hudibras. Part iii. Canto ii. Line 175.

True as the needle to the pole,

Or as the dial to the sun.

Barton Booth (1681-1733): Song.