My old clock runs down
To the iron age it tells
O world attire and wonder,
Blossoms of gifted bells.
The ivy quad carillon,
Showers beauty on youth.
Too soon new horizons,
Will weigh tiny earth,
Taking hard iron time.
Wrinkles know.
O worlds attire and wonders,
Blossoms the bells bestow,
Long memories fade and fall,
Do not forget them all.