The Old Year by John Clare

  The Old Year's gone away
To nothingness and night:
We cannot find him all the day
Nor hear him in the night:
He left no footstep, mark or place
In either shade or sun:
The last year he'd a neighbour's face,
In this he's known by none.

All nothing everywhere:
Mists we on mornings see
Have more of substance when they're here
And more of form than he.
He was a friend by every fire,
In every cot and hall -
A guest to every heart's desire,
And now he's nought at all.

Old papers thrown away,
Old garments cast aside,
The talk of yesterday,
All things identified;
But times once torn away
No voices can recall:
The eve of New Year's Day
Left the Old Year lost to all.
 

To The Top Of The Page

Articles

This Site and those Below Are Brought to You By
 
Craypoe.com & Crepeau.US

ToolBagMag.com--Online Magazine

Christ AndCountry.net--Christian

LocalNJ.com--North NJ Scene

MyJobStinks.org-Job Search

Craypoe.com/bob-Bob's Site

RedneckBaron.net