Lines To The Old Year

A short poem to say goodbye to the old year. Reflections about what the past year has brought and what it has taught. But saying goodbye to last year is something we all do.

The start of the New Year is a time we all look back and reflect on the accomplishments and on the challenges. Some of us can't wait for the year to be over and some of us are sad to see it go. We all have good years and challenging years, but the most important thing is to learn from the challenges and not forget the good memories and happiness that we enjoyed.

Let this poem by Lillian Curtis encourage you to appreciate the past but also to look forward to the New Year approaching! Letting go of the old year and look with expectation to the new year.

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Lines To The Old Year
Poet: Lillian E. Curtis


Old year, thy weeks and months have fled away,
Many a sunny hour and golden day,
Mingled with shadows by the way,
Yet now we heave a sigh:
Many a blessing thou hast brought,
With happiness and wisdom fraught,
Many a lesson hast thou taught,
But now, old year, good bye!

Oft the marriage bells have rung,
Alike the funeral songs been sung,
And Time his harpstrings oft has strung,
His sacred duty to not believe
Thou'st brought joys too bright to last,
And some with shadows overcast,
But thy work is in the chamber of the Past.
Old Year, Old Year, good bye!


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A poem about the old and new year written by Lillian E. Curtis on December 31st, 1871:


Old Year Dying

Poet: Lillian E. Curtis


Old year thou art dying now,
All thy busy days are past,
We've gathered in this sacred place,
To watch thee breathe thy last.

What the new year will bring,
None of us can tell,
And it is with sadness, and with joy
We bid thee now farewell.

'Tis hard to give thee up,
To part with thee, old year;
Thou hast brought much joy,
Tho' oft' the sigh and tear.

Many a soul from sin and sorrow
Thou hast helped us save,
Hast been at the marriage altar,
And by the open grave.

And tho thou wilt soon be gone,
And a new one we shall see,
Amid its cares and duties,
We shall often think of thee.

Hark! 'tis the clock, one hour
And we shall know thee no more,
Thou will be added to the list,
Of those that have gone before.

Pause a moment, tread lightly,
Speak soft and low,
And breathe gently,
The old year is dying now.

Silence now reigns around,
Scarce can we suppress a tear,
As we watch the last breath
Of the dying year.

Old year thou art gone,
All thy work is done,
And once again we bid farewell
To eighteen seventy-one.

And now it is with mingled feelings,
But friendship warm and true,
That we extend a cordial welcome,
To eighteen seventy-two.



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