Monday, January 29, 2007
I was helping my sister for her project when i came upon this song. It struck me as a touching and sad song. Here's a little introduction. Oh, and this song was written somewhere around the 1870's.
My Grandfather's Clock
by Henry Clay Work
In Piercebridge, England in Palatinate County of Durham, home of the Prince-Bishops, there was an old hotel called the George Hotel. The place was a rest stop for weary travelers and was run by two brothers, last name of Jenkins. In the lobby of the hotel was an old upright clock. The clock always kept perfect time until one of the old Jenkins brothers died. Gradually the clock started losing time, first a minute or so every few days, then a minute a day, then several minutes a day. Clockmakers were called in to repair the clock, but no matter what their level of expertise, it seemed nothing could be done. One day shortly after the second old man Jenkins passed away in his ninetieth year, the old clock quit running completely. It never ran again. Attempts to fix the clock by the new owner of the George Hotel failed. But the clock, having become somewhat of a mysterious landmark in the hotel, was left to stand in the corner of the lobby - dusted and polished, but silent.
Sometime during the 1870's, a man, a songwriter from the States came to stay at the George Hotel. He was told the story of the Jenkins brothers and the old clock. He was Henry Clay Work. It inspired him. When he got back to the States he wrote a tune about the clock and its story, but to personalize the lyrics somewhat he decided to write about one old man and visualized that old man as his own grandfather. The tune was named "My Grandfather's Clock."
Here are the lyrics.
Written By: Henry Clay
WorkCopyright Unknown
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,
And 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 had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood
The clock seemed to know,
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four
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.
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.
(after getting 'raped' by Edmund)
"Did you get that on video?"
- Brendon Wong Han-Nah(chinese name LOL ahahhahaha)
popiah
12:52 AM
0 unpassionate people:
Everything i do, i do with passion