 | Egeria, or, The Spirit of Nature and Other Poems |  |
126
THE OLD YEAR'S REMONSTRANCE
I
The Old Year lay on his death-bed lone,And ere he died he spoke to me,
Low and solemn in under tone,
Mournfully, reproachfully.
The fading eyes in his snow-white head
Shone bright the while their lids beneath.
These were the words the Old Year said—
I shall never forget them while I breathe:—
II
“Did you not promise when I was born”—Sadly he spoke, and not in ire—
“To treat me kindly—not to scorn—
And to pay the debts you owed my sire?
Did you not vow, with an earnest heart,
Your unconsidered hours to hive?
And to throw no day in waste away,
Of my three hundred sixty-five?
III
“Did you not swear to your secret self,Before my beard was a second old,
That whatever you'd done to my fathers gone,
You'd prize my minutes more than gold?
Did you not own, with a keen regret,
That the past was a time of waste and sin?
But that with me, untainted yet,
Wisdom and duty should begin?
127
IV
“Did you not oft the vow renewThat never with me should folly dwell?
That, however Fate might deal with you,
You'd prize me much, and use me well?
That never a deed of scorn or wrath,
Or thought unjust of your fellow-men,
Should, while I lived, obscure your path,
Or enter in your heart again?
V
“Did you not fail?—but my tongue is weakYour sad short-comings to recall.”
And the Old Year sobbed—he could not speak—
He turned his thin face to the wall.
“Old Year! Old Year! I've done you wrong—
Hear my repentance ere you die!
Linger awhile!” Ding-dong, ding-dong—
The joy-bells drowned his parting sigh.
VI
“Old Year! Old Year!” he could not hear,He yielded placidly his breath.
I loved him little while he was here,
I prized him dearly after death.
New Year! now smiling at my side,
Most bitterly the past I rue.
I've learned a lesson since he died,
I'll lead a better life with you.
| Egeria, or, The Spirit of Nature and Other Poems | |