Poems and Lancashire Songs | ||
54
THE CHURCH CLOCK.
I
Oh thou, who dost these pointers see,And hear'st the chiming hour,
Say, do I tell the time to thee,
And tell thee nothing more;—
I bid thee mark life's little day
By strokes of duty done;—
A clock may stop at any time,
But time will travel on.
II
I am a preacher to a few,—A servant unto all,
As here I stand tick, ticking,
Like a death-watch in a wall;
55
These fingers gliding on,
Should think a moment, now and then,
How fast the moments run.
III
There's some of you are wealthy,And some of you are proud;
And some are poor, and some are sad,
And waiting for a shroud;—
Be patient yet a while, for see
This little yard below,—
The man who goes the longest way,
Has not so far to go.
IV
A christ'ning; then, a wedding comes;And then, a passing bell;
'Tis just the ancient tale that time
Has always had to tell:
56
With ticking wears away;
The gladdest pulse of life contains
The music of decay.
Poems and Lancashire Songs | ||