The Grandfather Clock

The old Tudor house was half-timbered and gaunt,

Was gloomy and dim in the hall,

And time had stood still, since my father was born,

In the clock that had stood by the wall.

Its pendulum hung, never making a sound

I’d never so much heard it chime,

But then, on the day that my Dad passed away,

Its tick had begun to keep time.

 

My mother was dead and my father was gone,

The half-timbered house passed to me,

I wandered its passages, sad and distraught,

As lonely as one man could be!

I’d sit in the lounge and I’d read by a lamp

With the rest of the house cloaked in gloom,

And heard the dread tick of that grandfather clock

As it echoed in time through the room!

 

Each tick was a portent, the passing of life,

Each tock brought me nearer to death,

I’d listen for noises, the timber that creaked,

Sit terrified, holding my breath!

The warm summer showers pit-pattered the thatch,

The wind would sough-sough at the eaves,

And summer passed quickly to autumn that year

In a thick golden carpet of leaves.

 

I never once wound up that grandfather clock,

I waited for it to wind down,

But like a tap dripping, it never would stop

I felt I was starting to drown.

I found in the library’s masses of books

An ancient collection of tomes,

And one that was covered in leather, I looked,

And read, and I wished that I’d known!

 

Sir Richard FitzWalter had lived in that house,

And he it was, ordered the clock,

He’d fought against Cromwell for Charlie the First

‘Til Charles lost his head on the block!

He’d fled to the country, was caught in the house,

And hanged on the tree by the gate,

His wife, Lady Mary, had begged for his life

But the Roundheads had jeered: ‘You’re too late!’

 

She left them, went sobbing back into the hall

And she clung to the grandfather clock,

But just as her husband, his heart ceased to beat,

She heard that the ticking had stopped.

That clock never ran for the rest of her life,

But showed just a quarter to four,

The time that Sir Richard was pinioned and hung

At the gate, on the tree by his door.

 

The clock began ticking when Mary had died,

Had taken her grief to the grave,

And each generation it stopped or began

When the master was born, or was saved!

I knew then the clock had been ticking for me

And I wanted it never to stop,

I’d wake in the night and I’d tremble to hear

If my heart was still pounding, or not.

 

Then one winter’s night I was restless, and rose

From my sleep, and walked down to the hall,

A Cavalier soldier stood facing the clock,

Adjusting the pendulum pawl;

Resetting the weights on that grandfather clock

So my heart would continue to beat,

From that time to this, I have lived here content

While Sir Richard returns as I sleep.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[roarke]

Clocks. Ingenious and insidious at the same time. Usually sounds in stories give existential angst or foreboding to the main character, of Poe-ish flavor. But here you've turned it and the main character strives to hear the ticking continue. I'm not a fan of measured time, unless it's by the seasonal changes. Man tinkers too much I think.

[Baby Ricochet]

Awesome! Like an old twilight zone or Eagar Allen Poe!

[Lumière Dé..]

The universal fear of death. Such a creative perception of it though.

[Dayran]

Time and the timelessness of our lives, well communicated as it relates to the events that has made a mark upon us. A differentiation between the living for the other and for oneself that is interchangeable. A hint at the curious mysticism of life. Well done, David.

[JB Murray]

Wow... this, is a masterpiece, and surely to stand the test of time itself. Wonderful write, vivid, charming, eerie, and enlightening. Thanks for sharing!

[A love for poetry]

I liked this a lot. I used live in an old house when I was younger, partially run down, but still... This poem brought back those memories--really captured a good moment here.

[Susanna F]

So heartrending and suspenseful! A fascinating story with great historical background, and an unforgettable poem. Thank you for sharing.

[ROSALIND]

yOU KNOW YOU SEEM TO NAIL IT EVERY TIME.
THESE GOOD OLD FASHIONED STORIES WITHIN, YOUR POEMS LOVE IT

[Mockingbird]

very gothic, reminds me of edgar allan poe's style of writing and themes. great job.

[Moonflower]

This was a truly amazing read. The rhyme scheme flowed perfectly, never missed a beat. The story felt classical and kept me reading further. Truly great work. Thank you for sharing.

[lee von cleef]

The clock and story telling,you're finding I love things like " pendulum pawl" Tic - Tock
beat,rolls this right along in the carriage over cobblestone streets.