The Old Year And The New.

I.         As one in sorrow looks upon             The dead face of a loyal friend,         By the dim light of New Year's dawn             I saw the Old Year end.         Upon the pallid features lay             The dear old smile - so warm and bright         Ere thus its cheer had died away             In ashes of delight.         The hands that I had learned to love             With strength of passion half divine,         Were folded now, all heedless of             The emptiness of mine.         The eyes that once had shed their bright             Sweet looks like sunshine, now were dull,         And ever lidded from the light             That made them beautiful.         II.         The chimes of bells were in the air,             And sounds of mirth in hall and street,         With pealing laughter everywhere             And throb of dancing feet:         The mirth and the convivial din             Of revelers in wanton glee,         With tunes of harp and violin             In tangled harmony.         But with a sense of nameless dread,             I turned me, from the merry face         Of this newcomer, to my dead;             And, kneeling there a space,         I sobbed aloud, all tearfully: -             By this dear face so fixed and cold,         O Lord, let not this New Year be             As happy as the old!