He stood, and heard the steeple
Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town.
One, two, three, four, to market-place and people
It tossed them down.
Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour,
He stood and counted them and cursed his luck;
And then the clock collected in the tower
Its strength, and struck.
Eight O'clock
Alfred Edward Housman
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Poem topics: people, strength, tower, place, town, morning, clock, market, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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