The clock is in a garden wide, And there it keeps the hours, And even finds a way to hide Its face among the flowers. The clock is in a hive of bees, The clock is in a fountain - It's here, it's there, it's in the trees Yonder up a mountain. At times it's all all that I can hear - No surer clock could be - For it is always somewhere near, And strikes eternity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TUOL SLENG: POL POT'S PRISON by KAREN SWENSON THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT by ROBERT BURNS AN EPITAPH by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE HOLY SONNET: ANNUNCIATION by JOHN DONNE SONNET: 46 by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN COLUMBIAN ODE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A GIRL'S GARDEN by ROBERT FROST |