THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS.
97
And from its station in the hall
An ancient timepiece says to all,—
"Forever—never!
Never—forever!"
An ancient timepiece says to all,—
"Forever—never!
Never—forever!"
Halfway up the stairs it stands,
And points and beckons with its hands
From its case of massive oak,
Like a monk, who, under his cloak,
Crosses himself, and sighs, alas!
With sorrowful voice to all who pass,—
"Forever—never!
Never—forever!"
And points and beckons with its hands
From its case of massive oak,
Like a monk, who, under his cloak,
Crosses himself, and sighs, alas!
With sorrowful voice to all who pass,—
"Forever—never!
Never—forever!"
By day its voice is low and light;
But in the silent dead of night,
Distinct as a passing footstep's fall,
It echoes along the vacant hall,
But in the silent dead of night,
Distinct as a passing footstep's fall,
It echoes along the vacant hall,
