Tick, tock…
The other day I hired a horologist (clock repairman) to come to adjust an old wall clock that dates from the early 1800s. Tall and imposing with carving and classic Roman numerals heralding the hour, it makes an impression on visitors.
As he deftly manipulated the works, I marveled at the timepiece and my thoughts ran to my childhood. I don’t think that today’s children learn the songs of my youth. In truth, many of them would be totally alien in meter and lyrics. When the familiar tick, tock began, lyrics began to run through my mind — all the more clear with the metronome beat of pendulum.
Perhaps you know the lyrics. I recited the first entire stanza from memory and — of course — I remembered the chorus without a problem at all. However, when it came to the other verses, I was stuck. Going to my trusty Apple computer, I downloaded them from the Internet and enjoyed them all the more.
I’d like to share them with you now. Written by Henry Clay Work, the song’s copyright is unknown. And so, it shares its wisdom with the world sans a date.
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.
Ninety years without slumbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
It stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum
Swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood
The clock seemed to know,
And share both his grief and his joy.
And 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, tock, tick, tock,
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
It stopped 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,
It stopped 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 hand never hung by its side.
But it stopped 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,
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 his 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, tock, tick, tock,
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
It stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
Are you humming the tune as you read? I hope so. As the year tick tocks its way toward another, remember the wit and wisdom of this little song. It has a lot of merit when it comes to values and work ethic. Think about it.