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My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf.
So it stood ninety years on the floor.
It was taller by half than the old man himself.
Thought it weighed not a penny weight more.
It was bought on the mom of the day that he was born.
And was always hid treasure and pride.
But it stopped short, never to go again.
When the old man died,
In watching it’s pendulum swing to and for
Many hours hand he spent while a boy
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know.
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door.
With a blooming and beautiful bride.
But it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.
Ninety years without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick,tick,tick)
it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.
My grandfather said that od those he could hire
Not a servant so faithful he found
For it wasted no time and had but one desire.
At the close of each week-to be would
And it kept in its place, not a frown upon its face.
And its hands never hug by its side.
But it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.
It rang an alarm in the dead of the night.
An alarm that for years had been dumb
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight
That his hour of departure had come
Still the clock kept the time with a soft and muffled chime
As we silently stood by his side.
But it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.
Ninety years without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick,tick,tick)
It stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.
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