191
THE YEAR'S FAREWELL.
H! sad and solemn sounds thy voice,Thou old departing year!
Why ring thy tones so mournfully
Upon the listening ear?
Full many a joyous hour was thine,
But yet thy last farewell,
Thy footsteps' swift receding sound,
Falls like a passing-bell.
Ay, mortal! solemn is my voice,
And sad it seems to thee;
For still the echo of the past
A mournful sound must be.
That tongue is mine, whose awful tone
Each human heart must hear;
The voice within—stern conscience—speaks
The knell of every year.
And sad it seems to thee;
For still the echo of the past
A mournful sound must be.
That tongue is mine, whose awful tone
Each human heart must hear;
The voice within—stern conscience—speaks
The knell of every year.
Look back upon my wasted hours
No power can bring again:
Think, that for ever as it stands,
My record must remain.
No power can bring again:
Think, that for ever as it stands,
My record must remain.
