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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426732" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To the Town Clock</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou grave old Time Piece, many a time and oft<br> I've been your debtor for the time of day;<br> And every time I cast my eyes aloft,<br> And swell the debt--I think 'tis time to pay.<br> Thou, like a sentinel upon a tower,<br> Hast thou still announced "the enemy's" retreat,<br> And now that I have got a leisure hour,<br> Thy praise, thou old Repeater, I'll repeat.<br> A very striking object, all must own,<br> For years you've been, and may for years remain,<br> And though fierce storms around your head have blown,<br> Your form erect, and clear and mellow tone,<br> Despite their violence, you still retain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> A "double face," some foolishly believe,<br> Of gross deception is a certain sign;<br> But thy four faces may their fears relieve,<br> For who can boast so frank a life as thine.<br> You ne'er disguised your thoughts for purpose mean,<br> You ne'er conceal'd your knowledge from the crowd,<br> Like knaves and asses that I've sometimes seen,<br> But what you knew with fearlessness avow'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Time, with his scythe, could never mow you down,<br> Though you could cut him up in fragments small--<br> Showing his halves and quarters to the town,<br> Old Quarter Master General for us all.<br> Though unambitious, still the highest place<br> All ranks and classes cheerfully resign,<br> And "looking up to thee," feel no disgrace<br> If to "look down on them" thou dost incline.<br> While some the Graces seek,<br> And others love the Muse's rosy bowers--<br> Thou art content from week to week,<br> To revel with the ever fleeting Hours.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> How many curious scenes and odd displays<br> You've gazed upon, since first you took your stand;<br> How many sad, how many brilliant days,<br> You've had a hand in--Oh! that you could hand<br> Your knowledge down--<br> Your Log--your Album--all your observations,<br> Jokes and remarks, on what you've heard and seen;<br> If besides "note of time," your cogitations<br> On all the doings that in time have been<br> You had recorded,<br> No book would sell so well<br> About the town,<br> Nor any author be so well rewarded.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> What various feelings, in the human heart,<br> Thy tones have stirred;--<br> How hast the Lover curs'd thee, when he heard<br> Thy voice proclaiming it was time to part.<br> With what a start<br> Of quick delight, about to be set free,<br> The schoolboy heard you say that it was three;<br> But then, next morning, how he'd sigh and whine<br> When you as frankly told him it was nine;<br> Oh! cruel Clock! thus carelessly to shout it,<br> If e'er you'd play'd<br> At Ball, or By the Way, on the Parade,<br> You never would have said one word about it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> To wretch, condemn'd for flagrant crimes to swing,<br> What horrid anguish would thy clear tones bring,<br> Telling his hour!<br> But, to the pilloried scoundrel, placed on high,<br> Round whom stale fish and rotten eggs did fly--<br> A fearful shower!<br> Whose dodging shoulders, and averted eye,<br> Half uttered prayer, or sharp and piercing cry,<br> Betray'd his fears;<br> Who thought "his hour" would surely last all day,<br> Sweet was thy welcome voice, when it did say<br> The storm about his ears<br> Should cease and die away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> How oft hast thou observ'd the hapless wight,<br> Who'd toil'd, and raked, and scraped, from morning light,<br> Till nearly three;<br> And yet had not enough his Note to pay,<br> Turn round to thee;<br> While throbbing brow, and nervous gait did say,<br> Hold--hold--good Clock, another quarter stay--<br> For if I cannot raise, or beg or borrow,<br> My credit will have died before tomorrow,<br> For this I do assure you's, my "last day."<br> The Sun stood still, at Joshua's command,<br> Oh! be as kind, or I can never stand;<br> Ah! do--if you of pity have one drop,<br> If you "go on," by Heaven I'll have "to stop."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> How many dashing blades have gone to pot,<br> Who sought on Folly's files the first to be;<br> But never one, of all the precious lot,<br> Could live, old friend, so long "on tick" as thee.<br> The cunning fellows, too, thou put'st to shame,<br> Who scheme, and plot, and plan from morn till eve;<br> Thy "wheels within wheels" always go the same,<br> While they, some "screw loose" failing to perceive,<br> On ev'ry side their wreck'd machinery leave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> A good example<br> To all the idle chaps about the town,<br> Who trample<br> On precepts by economists set down,<br> You always gave;<br> Your "hands" were going night and day;<br> From year to year you toil'd away<br> Like any slave;<br> Your limbs from heavy weights no hour were free<br> And "Sunday dawned no holiday to thee."<br> You "the whole figure" went while others faltered,<br> And howsoe'er times changed, your time ne'er altered.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Joseph+Howe">Joseph Howe</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426732" data-title="To the Town Clock de Joseph Howe" data-description="Thou grave old Time Piece, many a time and oft I've been your debtor for the time of day; And every time I cast my eyes aloft, And swell the debt--I think 'tis time to pay. Thou, like a sentinel upon a tower, Hast thou still announced "t..."></div> </div> </div>
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