The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop,
At late or early hour.
To lose one's wealth is sad indeed,
TO lose one 'e health is more.
TO lose one's SOUI is such a loss.
AS no man can restore.
The present only is our own,
Live, love. toil with a will.
Place no faith in "Tomorrows"
The clock may then be still.