Rebecca Clarke (1886-1979)
Text by Alfred Edward Housman (1859-1936)
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.