A clock stopped -- not the mantel's; Geneva's farthest skill Can't put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket! The figures hunched with pain, Then quivered out of decimals Into degreeless noon. It will not stir for doctors, This pendulum of snow; The shopman importunes it, While cool, concernless No Nods from the gilded pointers, Nods from the seconds slim, Decades of arrogance between The dial life and him. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 6. NIGHT LANDING by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER A SECOND REVIEW OF THE GRAND ARMY [MAY 24, 1865] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE THE MESSAGE, FR. THE FAIR MAID OF THE EXCHANGE by THOMAS HEYWOOD AMORETTI: 30 by EDMUND SPENSER TWO VOICES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE AVENUE by GEORGES BOUTELLEAU AIRS SUNG AT BROUGHAM CASTLE: THE LORDS WELCOME by THOMAS CAMPION |