My grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf
So it stood ninety years on the floor
It was taller by half than the old man himself
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more
It was bought on the morn' of the day that he was born
It was always his treasure and pride
It stopped, short never to go again
When the old man died
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro
Many hours he spent as a boy
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And it shared both his sorrow and his joy
And it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door
With a beaming and beautiful bride
But it stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died
Ninety years without slumbering
His life seconds numbering
It stopped, short never to go again
When the old man died
My grandfather said that of those he could hire
Not a servant so faithful he found
It wasted no time and it had but one desire
At the close of each week to be wound
And it stayed in its place, not a frown upon its face
And its hands never hung by its side
And it stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died
Well, it rang and alarmed in the still of the night
An alarm that for years had been dumb
We knew that his spirit was pluming in flight
That his hour for departure had come
Still the clock kept its time with a soft and muffled chime
As we silently stood by his side
And it stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died
Ninety years without slumbering
His life seconds numbering
It stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died
Yes, it stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died