The Old Year and the New

The Old Year and the New
Cotton Noe (1916)

Good-bye, Old Year; our journey has been brief;
I'm sorry now to leave thee dying here,
For thou hast borne my burdens with good cheer,
And never murmured, but assuaged my grief.
When buds of promise never came to leaf;
When broken resolutions, doubt, and fear
Did mock at my defeat, O good Gray Year,
Thy reassuring smile restored belief.

Good-bye—farewell! I trust thy dear young child,
Who greets me at the gateway of the dawn,
Will deal as gently with me and my friends,
And lead our footsteps through the springtime mild,
O'er summer's lawn, down autumn's slopes, and on
To where the path of chill December ends.