Farewell, departed year!
How swiftly have thy golden moments fled!
Gone to the past,
In the dark lays of record to repose;
Whence might be culled a tale
Which would impeach our name--
The way we spent the precious hours,
Whereof to learn we shudder, in the thought
That they passed from us as a worthless thing,
While all our heed to idleness was lent.
Recall the olden deeds,
Review the acts performed, and see
How they will bear the scrutiny ye give.
How do the deeds of ill
Throng round the retrospective glance!
While few and feeble are the acts of truth.
Where is the profit we have gained?
Or where the good a brother took from us?
Let us not spurn the many warnings shewn.
Who may not from the ranks of friendship glean
One name, or more, in sacred reverence held,
Of some dear friend, departed now,
But who, while we gave welcome to the year just gone,
Was with us, and who held
A love deep rooted in our hearts,
And who, we once had hope,
Would seasons more remain to comfort us.
The present ours.
May we of wisdom learn the way to live;
For who can know that we may live
To see this year depart, or see another come?
Now let us to the year departed say farewell;
For it has gone, with all its joys and cares,
Which, ere we knew, moved from our presence, and
Another came; which in the old seat sits, whereof
We wonder what its course may yield,
And all around mysterious fancies rise.
But darkness o'er the scene a curtain holds,
And veils from view what is upon the time
Which is to come.