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Poem about a grandfather clock | 27-Nov-04

He stands there on the stairs just halfway down
Withered and worn, old and brown
Still his tickand dumb his chime
Nobody asks him what's the time
Nobody stops on the way down the stairs
To look at his honest face and see
He's never moved on from half past three

11 comments have been made on this quote. Click here to read them and then add your own!


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Comments:

I had to learn this poem at primary school over 15 years ago and am desperate to remember it in full. Can anyone help??
Leona Attwater-Dunn

If Father Shandy?s Clock Could Speak.....

Regular as clockwork, you wind me up
on the first Sunday of each month,
and faithfully, like an old retainer,
I serve you, bonking out the quarters,
bonking the hours especially,
one bonk for each!
My bonking rings through the house
winding you up as the month goes by
with the result well known to Mrs Shandy.
That evening, just after my bonk at ten,
I heard its faint echo from upstairs
and how the association of ideas
led your good wife to ask;
Pray, my dear, have you not forgot to wind up the clock?



Mike Horwood
Mike Horwood

I first heard this peom some thirty years ago and wanted to teach it my granddaughter but could not remember it all.
To add to this peom. There is something about the nursery clock and the great round clock
christine wright

I first heard this poem from my father about fifty years ago. I always thought he made it up because he always liked to write poetry. The lines I remember are:
He stands on the stairs just half way down
Withered and worn and old and brown
Nobody starts him nobody cares
Nobody stops on their way downstairs
To look at his honest face and see
That he'snever moved on from half past three.
I was quoting this poem to my 7 year old grand-daughter this afternoon and she asked where I had learnt it. Can anyone help?
never moved on from half past three.
Anne Jenns

you got it wrong it should be, he stands on the stairs just half way down, withered and worn, old and brown, still is his tick dumb is his chime, nobody asks him what's the time, nobody asks him, nobody cares nobody stops on the way downstairs, to look at his honest face and see he's never moved on from half past three.
thanks.
allan austin

This came as part of one of my Correspondence School lessons around about 1951. I kept it in a book of poetry for years and years, sadly lost in a move somewhere along the line. Allan Austin has it as I remember it and that's about as far as I can go too. However, the ending is something along the lines of . . .

There's little a worn out clock can do
But once every day its hands point true.

And Christine's contribution brings to mind some words about a nursery clock and a grand or great clock in the hall. But whether that is the same poem or another one I have no idea.
I've always enjoyed poetry so there are many lines tucked away for the remembering, but would dearly like to have this poem complete.
Margaret Rooke

I recited this poem in class about 36 years ago. Its by Hugh Chesterfield or Chesterman. There are a few more verses (I'm not entirely accurate here):
The clock in the ? is wound each night
The clock in the drawing rooms always right
And down in the kitchen cook declares
Her clock goes better than those upstairs.
The clock in the bedroom
The clock in the hall
The great round clock on the nursery wall
Yes, every clock may work with a will
But up on the landing time stands still
It's many a year since the grandfather clock
Filled the house with his great tick tock

I cant remember any more - been searching for the last few lines for years!
natalie yandle

i can't remember all but i believe it went something like this. i did it in school about 35years ago. however , i too forgot some parts of the last verse

Grandfather Clock by Hugh Chesterman

He stands on the stairs just halfway down
Weathered and worn and old and brown
Still in his tick and dumb in his chime
And nobody asks him what's the time.

Nobody asks him nobody cares
Nobody stops on the way downstairs
To look at his honest face and see
He's never moved on from half past three

The dining room clock is wound each night
The clock in the study is always right
And down in the kitchen cook declares
Her clock works better than those upstairs

The clock in the study
The clock in the hall
The great round clock on the nursery wall
Yes every clock may work with a will
But on the landing time stands still


Ronald Khan

I too remember learning this poem at school in 1940s. I can still recite it as a party piece. Although I've never seen the written poem the version I remember is basically that remembered by Ronald Khan with a few variations eg Drawing Room instead of Study.
The last verse reads -
The day has gone since grandfather clock
Filled the house with his deep tick tock
His tick is still,and his time is dumb,
He'll stay like that 'til kingdom come
Although he's always half past three,
'Well once a day I'm right' says he
'There's little a worn out clock can do,
But once every day my hands point true'

The odd word may be wrong but it was 70 years I learned this!
Hope this may be of interest.
Mary Barker

Super. Thanks so much. I have been away to the lake district with friends to celebrate our 65th birthdays. thought about old poetry no one could remeber all of this one about the grandfather clock.
any one know this one.
A WISE OLD OWL LIVES AN OAK
THE MORE HE SAW THE LESS HE SPOKE
THE LESS HE SPOKE THE MORE HE HEARD
WHY CANT WE BE LIKE THAT WISE OLD BIRD.!
Wendy Woods

I am trying to find a poem .The Grandfather Clock. learnt it 40years ago in primary school in Jamaica. It starts"
Our clock has such a merry face , and from the corner in the hall, it watches me go in and out. ....
another Verse: " It tells me when its time to rise, and rings so loudly when it s 8, and oh I know it looks at me ,when I come down to breakfast late, when I come down to breakfast late."
Paulette Jones


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