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The Old Clock

From the Evening Star, November 27, 1914. By Philander Johnson.

My Uncle Jim, he has a clock.
    He bought it years ago.
It used to sound a smart “tick tock,”
    But now it’s kept for show.
It used to move with nimble hands
    To count the minutes o’er,
But now its record always stands
    At strictly half-past four.

“It’s weary now,” said Uncle Jim.
    “It did its work right well;
And fading into memories dim
    Are tales it used to tell.
It sort of halted on the way
    It went so well of yore.
And, finally, it stopped one day
    Right there, at half-past four.

“That is the hour when I awoke
    To greet the dawn anew,
And next, the hour that softly spoke
    Of toiling almost through.
My old clock tells of early day
    Of the rest in store;
And so I simply let it stay
    Content at half-past four.”

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