Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE OLD YEAR, by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH Poet's Biography First Line: O good old year! This night's your last Last Line: I see your cab is waiting. Subject(s): Holidays; New Year; Time | ||||||||
O GOOD Old Year! this night's your last. And must you go? With you I've passed Some days that bear revision. For these I'd thank you, ere you make Your journey to the Stygian lake, Or to the fields Elysian. Long have you been our household guest; To keep you we have tried our best. You must not stay, you tell us, Not even to introduce your heir, Who comes so fresh and debonnair He needs must make you jealous. I heard your footsteps overhead To-night -- and to myself I said He's packing his portmanteau. His book and staff like Prospero's He has buried, where nobody knows, And finished his last canto. Your well-known hat and cloak still look The same upon their entry hook, And seem as if they grew here. But they, ah me! will soon be gone, And we be sitting here alone To welcome in the New Year. The boots so oft put out at night Will vanish ere to-morrow's light Across the east is burning. When morning comes, full well I know They'll leave no footprints in the snow Of going or returning. At twelve o'clock to-night Queen Mab Will take you in her spectral cab To catch the downward fast train. Some of us will sit up with you, And drink a parting cup with you, While I indite this last strain. O good old wise frost-headed Year, You're brought us health and strength and cheer, Though sometimes care and sorrow. Each morn you gave us newer hope That reached beyond the cloudy scope Of our unseen to-morrow. We knew you when you were, forsooth, No better than a stranger youth -- A fast youth, some one muttered, When thinking how the days you gave On ghostly horses to their grave Have galloped, flown and fluttered. But what is time, by moon and stars Checked off in monthly calendars, To fairy kings like you here? What are the centuries that span The inch-wide spaces ruled by man? Or what are Old and New Year? You go to join the million years, The great veiled deep that never clears Before our mortal seeing: The shrouded death, the evolving life, The growth, the mystery, the strife Of elemental being. We see in your abstracted eye The clouded flame of prophecy, Of time the immortal scorning -- And yet the sympathetic smile That says, "I fain would stay awhile To bid your rhymes good-morning." Ah! no more rhymes for you and me, Old Year, shall we together see, -- Yes, we to-night must sever. Good-bye, old Number Seventy-five! It 's nearly time you took your drive Into the dark forever. The train that stops for you will let A stranger out we never met, To take your place and station. With greetings glad and shouts of joy They'll welcome him -- while you, old boy, Depart with no ovation. Besides, he has a higher claim Than you -- a grand ancestral name That sets the bells a-ringing. The great Centennial Year is he. The nation's noisy jubilee Young Seventy-six is bringing. I hear the puffing of his steam. I hear his locomotive scream Across the hills and meadows. One parting glass -- the last -- the last! Ten minutes more, and you'll have passed Into the realm of shadows. Five minutes yet? But talk must end. On with your cloak and cap, old friend! Too long we have been prating. Your blessing now! We'll think of you. Ah, there's the clock! Adieu -- adieu! I see your cab is waiting. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEVEN EYES: FINAL SECTION by LYN HEJINIAN THE FATALIST: COME OCTOBER by LYN HEJINIAN THE FATALIST: HOME by LYN HEJINIAN THE FATALIST: TIME IS FILLED by LYN HEJINIAN SLOWLY: I FREQUENTLY SLOWLY WISH by LYN HEJINIAN ALL THE DIFFICULT HOURS AND MINUTES by JANE HIRSHFIELD A DAY IS VAST by JANE HIRSHFIELD FROM THIS HEIGHT by TONY HOAGLAND CORRESPONDENCES; HEXAMETERS AND PENTAMETERS by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH |
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