![]() Their machines and their menials our fleece have cut low. The rich in grand mansions have rudely intruded Though seemingly happy we're buried in woe 'Tis so with the lawns that like me are denuded, Some millions now stand on the verge of despair. We're outwardly smiling while inwardly grieving, The best side to London, they say over there. When winter approaches they would be my shelter:īut now as I'm fixed, sir, the cold to me cleaves. With Dame Nature's garments, the tall grass and leaves Methinks that without him I'd feel by far better, Who keeps me quite bobby, good-looking and healthy įor it the same fellow is getting good pay. He hired a smart gardener to mind me all day I seem a fine lawn, and my master is wealthy It rang an alarm in the dead of the night -Īnd we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight -īut the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime, My grandfather said that of those he could hire,įor it wasted no time, and had but one desire -Īnd it always kept its place - with no frown upon its face, In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,Īnd in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to knowĪnd it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door, It was bought upon the morn of the day that he was born,īut it stopped short - never to go again. Though it weighed not a pennyweight more. It was taller by half than the old man himself, My grandfather's clock was too tall for the shelf, ![]() While the storm which had seemingly banished the dawn There are signs in the sky that the darkness is gone 'Twas a long weary night but the morning is near 'Twas a long weary night we were almost in fear ![]() He was known as a prophet at least was as wiseĪnd we trembled with dread when he rolled up his eyesĪnd he still wears the suit that he used to of yore 'Twas his last sad request so we laid him away He was reckoned as part of the salt of the earth Nicodemus, the slave, was of African birth
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