The Old School Clock (Fanatic Heart)

'Twas a quaint old clock with a quaint old face,
 * and great iron weights and chain.

It stopped when it liked, and before it struck
 * it creaked as if 'twere in pain.

It had seen many years, and it seemed to say,
 * 'I'm one of the real old stock',

To the youthful fry, who with reverence looked
 * on the face of the old school clock.

What a terrible frown did the old clock wear
 * to the truant who timidly cast

An anxious eye on those merciless hands,
 * that for him had been moving too fast!

But its frown soon changed, for it loved to smile
 * on the thoughtless, noisy flock,

And it creaked and whirred, and struck with glee,
 * Did that genial, good humoured old clock.

Well, years had passed, and my mind was filled
 * with the world, its cares and ways,

When again I stood in that little school
 * where I passed my boyhood days.

My old friend was gone! And there hung a thing
 * that my sorrow seemed to mock,

As I gazed with a tear and a softened heart
 * at a new-fashioned Yankee clock.

'Tis the way of the world. Old friends pass away
 * and fresh faces arise in their stead.

But still 'mid the din and bustle of life
 * we cherish fond thoughts of the dead.

Yes, dearly those memories cling round my heart,
 * and bravely withstand Time's rude shock;

But not one is more dear or more hallowed to me
 * than the face of that old school clock.