Snowflakes Part 9

Oh, servant faithful, tried, and true, Through suns.h.i.+ne, storm, and shower, Thy face for nearly forty years Has graced the court-house tower; Thy hands have never idle hung, Thy face was always cheery, Thy ever-swinging pendulum Seemed never, never weary.

When we were late to work or school, How gently didst thou chide us, Telling in soft and m.u.f.fled chimes How swiftly time glides by us.

Oh, how the workman loved thy voice, When thou, at set of sun, Proclaimed in softest, sweetest chimes, That his day's work was done.

But to us all it lost its charm, And sounded cross and surly, When wakened by its loud alarm In morning, oh, so early!

The maple trees that spread their boughs O'er the court-house yard below, Each year yield up their foliage To winter's frost and snow.

The birds that nest and sing among Their boughs in summer time, When winter winds begin to blow, All seek a sunny clime.

But thou, oh, tried and faithful one, Wert always just the same, Keeping the time with merry chime Through suns.h.i.+ne, snow, and rain.

For forty years thou'st kept the time, While in the court below Stood he who perpetrated crime, Waiting his doom to know; And when a murderer was tried, Who, for a little pay, Did take the life of a trusting friend, In a hut not far away,

"One, two, three," we heard thee say, In measured tones and slow, As forth, to be tried in heav'nly courts, His blood-stained soul did go.

Oh, cruel was thy fate, old clock!

For many days ago Thy old familiar face was crushed By workmen's st.u.r.dy blow.

They say they'll build a new court-house, And that they will replace By timepiece handsome, bright and new Thy old storm-beaten face.

Then thou, oh, servant tried and true, Through storm, suns.h.i.+ne, and show'r, The music of thy mellow chimes We'll hear again no more.

AFTERWHILE, SOMEWHERE.

Some day the misty shadow That covers your heaven of blue, Will melted be, and you will see The rainbow gleaming through.

The tears you've shed in silence For love that was wasted here-- Be still, O soul! They'll find their goal, Afterwhile, somewhere.

Though deeds of tend'rest kindness Oft bitter reproaches bring, As the drowning bee that you'd set free Repays you with a sting.

The pain you bear in silence, For confidence wasted here Will blossoms yield in a sun-kissed field, Afterwhile, somewhere.

Though years of honest labor Success has never crowned, No fruit they brought, though n.o.bly wrought, Dire Fate has always frowned.

The seed you've sown with patience, The labor you've wasted here, Again will bloom in the harvest-home, Afterwhile, somewhere.