I. <br /> <br />As one in sorrow looks upon <br />The dead face of a loyal friend, <br />By the dim light of New Year's dawn <br />I saw the Old Year end. <br /> <br />Upon the pallid features lay <br />The dear old smile--so warm and bright <br />Ere thus its cheer had died away <br />In ashes of delight. <br /> <br />The hands that I had learned to love <br />With strength of passion half divine, <br />Were folded now, all heedless of <br />The emptiness of mine. <br /> <br />The eyes that once had shed their bright <br />Sweet looks like sunshine, now were dull, <br />And ever lidded from the light <br />That made them beautiful. <br /> <br /> <br />II. <br /> <br />The chimes of bells were in the air, <br />And sounds of mirth in hall and street, <br />With pealing laughter everywhere <br />And throb of dancing feet: <br /> <br />The mirth and the convivial din <br />Of revelers in wanton glee, <br />With tunes of harp and violin <br />In tangled harmony. <br /> <br />But with a sense of nameless dread, <br />I turned me, from the merry face <br />Of this newcomer, to my dead; <br />And, kneeling there a space, <br /> <br />I sobbed aloud, all tearfully:-- <br />By this dear face so fixed and cold, <br />O Lord, let not this New Year be <br />As happy as the old!<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-year-and-the-new/
