Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A FUNERAL CHANT FOR THE OLD YEAR, by E. JUSTINE BAYARD Poet's Biography First Line: Tis the death-night of the solemn old year! Last Line: But she is gone! Alternate Author Name(s): Cutting, E. Justine Subject(s): Funerals; Burials | ||||||||
'T IS the death-night of the solemn Old Year! And it calleth from its shroud With a hollow voice and loud, But serene: And it saith -- "What have I given That hath brought thee nearer heaven? Dost thou weep, as one forsaken, For the treasures I have taken? Standest thou beside my hearse With a blessing or a curse? Is it well with thee, or worse That I have been?" 'T is the death-night of the solemn Old Year! The midnight shades that fall, -- They will serve it for a pall, In their gloom; -- And the misty vapours crowding Are the withered corse enshrouding; And the black clouds looming off in The far sky, have plumed the coffin, But the vaults of human souls, Where the memory unrolls All her tear-besprinkled scrolls, Are its tomb! 'T is the death-night of the solemn Old Year! The moon hath gone to weep With a mourning still and deep For her loss: -- The stars dare not assemble Through the murky night to tremble -- The naked trees are groaning With an awful, mystic moaning -- Wings sweep upon the air, Which a solemn message bear, And hosts, whose banners wear A crowned cross! 'T is the death-night of the solemn Old Year! Who make the funeral train When the queen hath ceased to reign? Who are here With the golden crowns that follow All invested with a halo? With a splendour transitory Shines the midnight from their glory, And the paean of their song Rolls the aisles of space along, But the left hearts are less strong, For they were dear! 'T is the death-night of the solemn Old Year! With a dull and heavy tread Tramping forward with the dead Who come last? Ling'ring with their faces groundward, Though their feet are marching onward, They are shrieking, -- they are calling Or the rocks in tones appalling, But Earth waves them from her view, -- And the God-light dazzles through, And they shiver, as spars do, Before the blast! 'T is the death-night of the solemn Old Year! We are parted from our place In her motherly embrace, And are lone! For the infant and the stranger It is sorrowful to change her -- She hath cheered the night of mourning With a promise of the dawning; She hath shared in our delight With a gladness true and bright: Oh! we need her joy to-night -- But she is gone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FUNERAL SERMON by ANDREW HUDGINS RETURN FROM DELHI by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN THE SCATTERING OF EVAN JONES'S ASHES by GALWAY KINNELL BROWNING'S FUNERAL by H. T. MACKENZIE BELL FALLING ASLEEP OVER THE AENEID by ROBERT LOWELL MY FATHER'S BODY by WILLIAM MATTHEWS |
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