1
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,
And was always his treasure and pride.
But it stopp'd short, never to go again
When the old man died.
CHORUS
Ninety years without slumbering, tick, tick,
tick, tick,
His life seconds numbering, tick, tick, tick,
tick,
But it stopp'd short, never to go again
When the old man died.
2
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent as 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.
3
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 stopp'd short, never to go again
When the old man died.
4
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 has come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft
and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side.
But it stopp'd short, never to go again
When the old man died.