Is that one of yours, Holl?? That's my thought every year - not this number on the stone, then.
The Old Year
by John Clare
The Old Year's gone away
....... To nothingness and night:
We cannot find him all the day
....... Nor hear him in the night:
He left no footstep, mark or place
....... In either shade or sun:
The last year he'd a neighbour's face,
....... In this he's known by none.
All nothing everywhere:
....... Mists we on mornings see
Have more of substance when they're here
....... And more of form than he.
He was a friend by every fire,
....... In every cot and hall--
A guest to every heart's desire,
....... And now he's nought at all.
Old papers thrown away,
....... Old garments cast aside,
The talk of yesterday,
....... Are things identified;
But time once torn away
....... No voices can recall:
The eve of New Year's Day
....... Left the Old Year lost to all.
May we all make poetry of our passions and our pains this year!
Love to all~
Cally
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