Good-By, Old Year

No pause, no rest, no visual line
     Between the years that come and go!
     For some too fast, for some too slow; 
Time never stops to sleep or dine, 
But on and on with steady flight 
He keeps untired, by day, by night; 
And boys and girls, ere yet aware, 
Find threads of silver in their hair,
     Their love of quiet growing stronger; 
And, haply, by these tokens know — 
What kind friends told them long ago —
     That they are boys and girls no longer.

Still on, as silent as a ghost !
     Seems but a score of days, all told, 
Or but a month or two at most,
     Since our last New Year's song we trolled,
     And lo! that New Year now is Old, 
And here we stand to say "Good-by!" 
Brief words, and yet, we scarce know why, 
They bring a moisture to the eye,
     And to the heart some quakes and aches;
We speak them very tenderly,
With half a sob and half a sigh — 
“Old Year, good-by! Old Year, good-by!" 
     For what it brought, for what it bikes, 
     We love it, and for loved ones' sakes:
Prized for its hours of happiness,
Nor for its sacred sorrows less:
For all it gave through toil and strife
Of new significance to life —
New breadths, new depths, new heights sublime,
And, haply, kingship over time,
Accept our thanks, Old Year! for these,
And for all precious memories
Of love, of grief, of joy, of pain,
Whose ministry was not in vain.

And so, we sadly lay, Old Year! 
Our love-wreath on thy snowy bier, 
Our love-wreath, moistened by a tear; 
And. turning from our brief adieu, 
With kindly welcome hail the New; 
True to the Ruling Power, we sing, 
“The king is dead!" "Long live the king!"