You will not wake? Then may your sleep, If it be long, be calm and deep; Thank God, the eyes forget to weep That do not waken early!
BLEST
Dec. 1865
Sinking to thine eternal rest, O dying Year! I call thee blest; Blest as no coming year may be This side of vast Eternity!
Thy cheek is pale, thy brow is worn; Thine arms are weary, that have borne The heaviest burdens ever laid On any, since the world was made.
But thou didst know her whom to-day My fond heart mourns, and must alway; She loved thee, claimed thee, called thee dear, Hailing with joy the glad New Year!
Thou didst behold her, fair and good, The perfect flower of womanhood; Simple and pure in thought and deed, Yet strong in every hour of need.
Ah! other years shall come and go, Bidding the sweet June roses blow; But never on their yearning eyes Shall her fair presence once arise!
The Spring shall miss her, and the long, Bright Summer days hear not her song; And hoary Winter, draped in snow, Finding her not, shall haste to go!
Therefore, Old Year, I call thee blest, Thus sinking to eternal rest; Blest as no other Year may be This side of vast Eternity!