He stood, and heard the steeple Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town. One, two, three, four, to market-place and people It tossed them down. Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour, He stood and counted them and cursed his luck; And then the clock collected in the tower Its strength, and struck. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LULLABY by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE HAUNTED HOUSE by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN THE REED by AUDREY ALEXANDRA BROWN ETERNAL BEAUTY by GRACE EVELYN BROWN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. LOVE'S VISION by EDWARD CARPENTER TO MARY by MAURETTE CHRISTOPHER |