I recently ran across a poem and only have the first few verses. Can someone tell me who was the author of this verse?

The clock of life is wound but once
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will set
At late or early hour

The Clock of Life by Robert H Smith

The clock of life is wound but once
And no man has the power
To tell just where the hands will stop,
At late or early hour.

To lose one's wealth is sad indeed,
To lose one's health is more.
To lose one's soul 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 'tomorrow'
For the clock may then be still.

This was published in our local paper 2 years ago, as a religious 'Thought for the Week' put in by a local cleric. As such it may have been abridged. If you have any more, please post it.

by Kopmeyer

The clock of life is wound but once
And no one has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop,
At late or early hour.
Now is the only time you can
live,love,toil with a will;
Place no faith in tomorrow,for
the clock may then be still.

There has been much discussion and claim of authorship of this poem, including poets in the 1930's and 1940's. I have the original, framed, and hanging on my wall here at my house. It was passed down to me through my family.

It was written by Wilfred Grindle Conary, in his handwriting, and signed by him. It could not have been written by those many it was attributed to in the 1930's, because my grandfather passed away in 1927.

Well, I am not so sure either...
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I love this poem! Actually all works of Robert Smith are full of emotions and deserve our attention. Glad that you mentioned "The Clock of Life" here.