THE OLD AND THE NEW.
I.
Said the year that was old,
"I am cold, I am cold,
And my breath hurries fast
On the wild winter blast
Of this thankless December.
Ah, who will remember
As T shivering go,
The warmth and the glow,
That arose like a flame,
When I came, when I came?
For T brought in my hands
From Utopian lands
