EVERY tick and every tock That comes from my old clock, Keeps time to Molly's step; And when it cries "Cuckoo," Her hand should knock below. Unless -- for now I see The clock looks down at me With a white and silent face; It stops, and not one beat Keeps time to Molly's feet. Then, staring at that clock, Whose every tick and tock Should be one step of hers, "Why have you stopped," I said -- "Has Molly dropped down dead?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAREWELL TO FARGO: SELLING THE HOUSE by KAREN SWENSON THE RAINBOW [IN THE SKY] by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH OUR WEAKNESS by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE CEREMONY OF THE PRINTER'S APPRENTICE; A GERMAN MORALITY PLAY by WILLAM BLADES A MENDER OF CLOCKS by MARGARET E. BRUNER TO A VAIN LADY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |