TONIGHT Old Year must die, And join the vagabonding shades of time, And haunt, and sob, and sigh Around the tower where soon New Year will chime. How fast the slim feet move! The fiddles whine, the reedy oboes toot, Lips whisper, eyes look love -- And Old Year's dying, dying underfoot! So mute and spent, so wan -- Poor corse -- beneath the laughter flying by; The revel dances on And treads you to the dust -- condemned to die! The moonlight floods the grass, The music's hushed, and all the festal din; The pale musicians pass, Each clasping close his green-cased violin. Old Year! -- not breathing now, Along the polished floor you lie alone; I bend, and touch your brow -- The dead year, that has slipped away and gone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WINTER BLUEJAY by SARA TEASDALE WAR IS KIND: 1 by STEPHEN CRANE TO THE REPUBLIC by JAMES GALVIN THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE: BOOK 1. CANTO 2. PRELUDE: LOVE AT LARGE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A VOYAGE TO CYTHERA by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE GOLDEN ODES OF PRE-ISLAMIC ARABIA: IBN KOLTHUM by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |