THE CLOCK

The clock that decorates the wall
Its pendulum slowly seconds call,
And hands that point the hour of days
Calls each one to observe his ways,
That our death hour will surely come
Today it’s beckoning some dear one.

The pendulum steadily swings back and forth
The minutes and hours take steady course.
Remember each tick, we are nearer the grave
O, do not forget, there is One who can save
So the clock calls faithfully to every one
The time speeds along from each setting sun.

There is no rest in this troublesome journey
Time is given from God for our learning
See the hour hand goes slowly and steady
Calling softly, pilgrim make you ready
Some day, some time the tick will stop
And God Himself will stop our clock.

So now observe, the time speaks warning
Prepare yourselves for that great morning,
Each hour that God grants in the strife
Is one more less of our precious life.
Soon it will stop and we’ll hear it no more
The time that has been beckoning o’er and o’er.

We oft have asked one, “Is that the time?”
But the clock only answers with it’s chimes
And could it talk it would speak sincere
What do you do with your life so dear?
It is so short, and what are you doing?
God gave it to you, but He’ll do the ruling.

Eternity means always, and now dear friend,
The clock calls time of which never ends.
Each day a new warning of life is given
Will we plunge into hell or be received into heaven.
Please listen dear traveller, your precious time flies
Be humbled before Him, for God never lies.

Each tick of the clock brings morn with its light,
The days pass so swiftly, and soon comes our night.
The year has flown away as a dream
A new one approaches us and we seem
To plan and plot our life with rapid pace,
But the future is God’s; He alone can grant grace.

’Tis an anxious time, and God’s staying hand
Can conquer the sin of church and of land.
O, that the people would plead and pray
“God, come in our midst and with us stay
In this new year and graciously be
Our Help, our Redeemer, through eternity.”

A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.
Time like an ever rolling stream
Bears all it’s sons away,
They fly forgotten as a dream
Dies at the opening day.
O, God our help in ages past
Our hope for years to come
Be Thou our guard while troubles last
And our eternal home.

This poem was translated from the Dutch language by a friend in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and was submitted by Rev. J. Van Zweden.

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