HERE we broached the Christmas barrel, Pushed up the charred log-ends; Here we sang the Christmas carol, And called in friends. Time has tired me since we met here When the folk now dead were young, Since the viands were outset here And quaint songs sung. And the worm has bored the viol That used to lead the tune, Rust eaten out the dial That struck night's noon. Now no Christmas brings in neighbours, And the New Year comes unlit; Where we sang the mole now labours, And spiders knit. Yet at midnight if here walking, When the moon sheets wall and tree, I see forms of old time talking, Who smile on me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TYRANNICK [TYRANNIC] LOVE: SONG by JOHN DRYDEN A THUNDERSTORM IN TOWN by THOMAS HARDY THE DEATH OF ADONIS by THEOCRITUS EPITAPH FOR LINCOLN by WALT WHITMAN THE WOUND-DRESSER by WALT WHITMAN ON A YOUNG BRIDE DROWNED IN THE BOSPHORUS by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS |