Lines to the Old Year.
FAREWELL, Old Year, the shades are growing deep,
Thou art dethroned and vanishes your power;
I sit alone with folded hands and weep,
While close the minutes chase our parting hour.
FAREWELL, Old Year, the shades are growing deep,
Thou art dethroned and vanishes your power;
I sit alone with folded hands and weep,
While close the minutes chase our parting hour.