Poems (Charlotte Allen)/On the Close of the Year
ON THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR.
Farewell! farewell thou dying year,
Thy race is nearly run;
A few brief moments linger here,
And then thy journey 's done.
No monument of marbled fame,
Will mark thy swift career;
But thy calm moments, in their wane,
Shall be remembered here.
Thy race is nearly run;
A few brief moments linger here,
And then thy journey 's done.
No monument of marbled fame,
Will mark thy swift career;
But thy calm moments, in their wane,
Shall be remembered here.
Like the winged arrow on its way,
Thou leav'st no trace behind;
Or as the sun's declining ray,
As the unfettered wind.
And noiseless as 'the lightsome fall
Of snow upon the earth,
Thou movest along, regardless all
Of sorrow or of mirth.
Thou leav'st no trace behind;
Or as the sun's declining ray,
As the unfettered wind.
And noiseless as 'the lightsome fall
Of snow upon the earth,
Thou movest along, regardless all
Of sorrow or of mirth.
There is no power, or charm below,
Can check the course of Time;
It onward glides with gentle flow,
In solitude sublime;
And days and months so swiftly fly,
And years so soon are past,
That none of us can tell how nigh
We may be to our last.
Can check the course of Time;
It onward glides with gentle flow,
In solitude sublime;
And days and months so swiftly fly,
And years so soon are past,
That none of us can tell how nigh
We may be to our last.