Lyrics

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, though it weighed not a pennyweight more. It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born, it was always his treasure and pride. But it stopped, short never to go again when the old man died. In watching its pendulum swing to and from, many hours had 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 stopp’d short -- never to go again when the old man died. Ninety years without slumbering (tick, tock, tick, tock), His life seconds numbering (tick, tock, tick, tock), but it stopp'd short -- never to go again when the old man died. My grandfather said that of 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 wound. And it kept in its place, not a frown upon its face and its hands never hung by its side. But it stopped short, never to go again when the old man died.