The Clock of Time

This is the version that appeared in my high school yearbook:

The clock of time is wound but once 
And no man has the power
To tell just when 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
That no man can restore

This is the only time you own
So live, love, work with a will
Place no faith in tomorrow
For the hands may then be still.