1.Oh! the old,old clock of the household stock,Was the brightest thing,and neatest;Its hands,though old,had a touch of gold,And its chimes rang still the sweetest;'T was a monitor,too,though its words were few,Yet they lived,though nations altered;And its voice,still strong,warned old and young,When the voice of friendship faltered:
"Tick! tick!" it said,"quick,quick,tbed: For ten I've given warning;Up! up! and go,or else you know,You'll never rise soon in the morning!"
2.A friendly voice was that old,old clock,As it stood in the corner smiling,And blessed the time with merry chime,The wintry hours beguiling;But a cross old voice was that tiresome clock,As it called at daybreak boldly;When the dawn looked gray o'er the misty way,And the early air looked coldly:"Tick! tick!" it said,"quick out of bed: For five I've given warning;You'll never have health,you'll never have wealth,Unless you're up soon in the morning!"
3.Still hourly the sound goes round and round,With a tone that ceases never:
While tears are shed for bright days fled,And the old friends lost forever!
Its heart beats on,though hearts are gone That beat like ours,though stronger;Its hands still move,though hands we love Are clasped on earth nlonger!
"Tick! tick!" it said,"tthe churchyard bed,The grave hath given warning;Up! up! and rise,and look at the skies,And prepare for a heavenly morning!"
