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stanza 1
A clock stopped -- not the mantel's
Geneva's farthest skill
Can't put the puppet bowing
That just now dangled still.
stanza 2
An awe came on the trinket!
The figures hunched with pain,
Then quivered out of decimals
Into degreeless noon.
stanza 3
It will not stir for doctors,
This pendulum of snow;
The shopman importunes it,
While cool, concernless No
stanza 4
Nods from the gilded pointers,
Nods from seconds slim,
Decades of arrogance between
The dial life and him.