In hearts that have never gone wrong.
Oh, will the Waters returning,
Borne by the Clouds from the Sea,
Run just as sweetly as ever
Over the Dregs and Debris?
IF SO, PEACE TILL NEXT NEW-YEAR.
(A DIRGE.)
The New Year!—hark! the bell!—oh it
Is at last here!
A solemn hush! The world sits still
With breath abated as the poet