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Title: The Two Years
Author: Myrtle Reed [
More Titles by Reed]
Tread softly, ye throngs with hurrying feet,
Look down, O ye stars, in your flight,
And bid ye farewell to a time that was sweet,
For the year lies a-dying to-night.
In a shroud of pure snow lie the quickly-fled hours--
The children of Time and of Light;
Stoop down, ye fair moon, and scatter sweet flowers,
For the year lies a-dying to-night.
Hush, O ye rivers that sweep to the sea,
From hill and from blue mountain height;
The flood of your song should be sorrow, not glee,
For the year lies a-dying to-night.
Good night, and good-bye, dear, mellow, old year,
The new is beginning to dawn.
But we'll turn and drop on thy white grave a tear,
For the sake of the friend that is gone.
All hail to the New! He is coming with gladness,
From the East, where in light he reposes;
He is bringing a year free from pain and from sadness,
He is bringing a June with her roses.
A burst of sweet music, the listeners hear,
The stars and the angels give warning--
He is coming in beauty, this joyful New Year,
O'er the flower-strewn stairs of the morning.
He is bringing a day with glad pulses beating,
For the sorrow and passion are gone,
And Love and Life have a rapturous meeting
In the rush and the gladness of dawn.
The Old has gone out with a crown that is hoary,
The New in his brightness draws near;
Then let us look up in the light and the glory,
And welcome this royal New Year.
[The end]
Myrtle Reed's poem: Two Years
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