Henry Clay Work

(1 October 1832 – 8 June 1884 / Middletown, Connecticut)

Henry Clay Work Poems

1. Grand-Father's Clock 1/3/2003
2. Come Home, Father! 1/3/2003
3. Grandmother Told Me So 1/3/2003
4. Brave Boys Are They! 1/3/2003
5. Come, Pretty School-Girl! 1/3/2003
6. The Days When We Were Young 1/3/2003
7. Wake Nicodemus! 1/3/2003
8. Farewell, My Loved One! 1/3/2003
9. Grafted Into The Army 1/3/2003
10. Babylon Is Fallen! 1/3/2003
11. Sleeping For The Flag 1/3/2003
12. We Are Coming, Sister Mary 1/3/2003
13. Come Back To The Farm! 1/3/2003
14. Corporal Schnapps 1/3/2003
15. Crying For Bread 1/3/2003
16. Kingdom Coming 1/3/2003
17. Crossing The Grand Sierras 1/3/2003
18. Washington And Lincoln 1/3/2003
19. Come To Me, Sunbeam! I'M Dying 1/3/2003
20. King Bibler's Army 1/3/2003
21. Little Major 1/3/2003
22. Don'T Be Cruel To The Motherless Darlings 1/3/2003
23. Sequel To Grandfather's Clock 1/3/2003
24. Dad's A Millionaire 1/3/2003
25. Georgie Sails To-Morrow! 1/3/2003
26. Lilly-Willy-Woken 1/3/2003
27. Touch The Sleeping Strings Again 1/3/2003
28. Andy Veto 1/3/2003
29. Lost On The Lady Elgin 1/3/2003
30. Joy In Heaven 1/3/2003
31. The Picture On The Wall 1/3/2003
32. Beautiful Rose 1/3/2003
33. Columbia's Guardian Angels 1/3/2003
34. The Old Village Doctor 1/3/2003
35. Lillie Of The Snowstorm 1/3/2003
36. The Ship That Never Returned 1/3/2003
37. When The Evening Star Went Down 1/3/2003
38. Take Them Away! They'Ll Drive Me Crazy 1/3/2003
39. Used-Up Joe 1/3/2003
40. There Is A River We All Must Cross 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Henry Clay Work

Grand-Father's Clock

My grand-father's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a penny weight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

In watching its pendulum swing to and ...

Read the full of Grand-Father's Clock

The Lost Letter

In the postoffice window was one broken pane;
In the wainscot there was one loosen'd board;
And conveniently near was the broad oaken table,
Where the mail from the bag had been pour'd,
'Twas a morning in May, with a sweet odor'd breeze;
And it happen'd unnotic'd by all,
That a most precious missive, that love laden letter,
Flutter'd down thro' the gap in the wall.

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