My Grandfather's
clock was too tall for the shelf
so it stood ninety years on the floor
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
but it weighed not a penny weight more
It was bought on the morn of the day he was born
and was always his pleasure and pride
But it stopped short never to go again
when the old man died
Ninety years without slumbering
tick tock tick tock
its life seconds numbering
tick tock tick tock
But it stopped short never to go again
when the old man died
In childhood and manhood, the clock seemed to know
and to share both his grief and his joy
For it struck twenty-four as he entered through the door,
with his blushing and beautiful bride,
But it stopped, short, never to go again,
when the old man died.