THE PARTED YEAR.
The parted year hath passed away
Unto that dreamy land,
Where ages upon ages sleep,
A mighty, slumbering band,
And, like a blood-stained conqueror
Grown weary of renown,
Hath yielded to the new-born year
His sceptre and his crown.
Unto that dreamy land,
Where ages upon ages sleep,
A mighty, slumbering band,
And, like a blood-stained conqueror
Grown weary of renown,
Hath yielded to the new-born year
His sceptre and his crown.
Hushed now should be each tone of glee,
Unquaffed the sparkling wine,
While Love and Grief bow hand in hand
At Memory's sacred shrine;
E'en haughty Pride should humbly bend
Down from his lofty steep,
And from the banquet laughing Mirth
Should turn aside and weep.
Unquaffed the sparkling wine,
While Love and Grief bow hand in hand
At Memory's sacred shrine;
E'en haughty Pride should humbly bend
Down from his lofty steep,
And from the banquet laughing Mirth
Should turn aside and weep.
Unwearied Thought, with solemn brow,
Droops o'er the heart's deep urn,
And traces on its glowing page,
The past will ne'er return.
Droops o'er the heart's deep urn,
And traces on its glowing page,
The past will ne'er return.
