POEMS.
19
A FAREWELL TO THE OLD YEAR.
Go! Winter bears thee from us. Flowers,
That crowned thee once, are dead;
And hopes, thy spring-time raised to us,
Have, with thy beauty, fled.
Yet we would shield thy fading form
From murmurs of regret;
Though many a heart that yearned for thee
Thy sojourn must forget.
That crowned thee once, are dead;
And hopes, thy spring-time raised to us,
Have, with thy beauty, fled.
Yet we would shield thy fading form
From murmurs of regret;
Though many a heart that yearned for thee
Thy sojourn must forget.
Pass on thy way; thou leav'st a trace
Of other sorrows here:
Have we no griefs for wasted time?
Sighs for a mis-spent year?
Go! thou must now give place to one
That hath not mark'd our care—
That cometh to restore to earth
Its robe of beauty rare—
Of other sorrows here:
Have we no griefs for wasted time?
Sighs for a mis-spent year?
Go! thou must now give place to one
That hath not mark'd our care—
That cometh to restore to earth
Its robe of beauty rare—
To soothe the troubles sent by thee—
To calm the spirit wild—
To teach the task a cold world sets
Adversity's wan child.
To calm the spirit wild—
To teach the task a cold world sets
Adversity's wan child.
