My grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf And it stood ninety years on the floor. It was taller by half than the old man himself And 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. But it stopped short Never to go again When the old man died. Ninety years without slumbering Tick tock Tick tock. His life seconds numbering Tick tock Tick tock. It stopped, short, Never to go again When the old man died. In watching its pendulum swing to and fro Many hours he had spent when a boy And through childhood and manhood, the clock seemed to know And to share both his grief and his joy For it struck 24 when he entered at the door With a blooming and beautiful bride, But it stopped, short, Never to go again When the old man died.