Pendulums
T
HE pendulums in little clocks
That stand on kitchen shelves
Are as busy and distracted
As some women are, themselves.
They hurry, hurry, hurry
From morning until night,
And never, never, never
Get their work done quite.
The quiet-moving pendulums
In old hall clocks swing slow,
And tranquilly, and leisurely
The golden hours go.
They are serene as women are
Who tread appointed ways,
Who move with quiet minds and hearts
Through wisely ordered days.
The quick distracting little clocks
Have much, much work to do,
So many urgent, clamoring tasks
To push and worry through;
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