The Old Year

The Old Year’s gone away      
     To nothingness and night:
We cannot find him all the day      
     Nor hear him in the night:
He left no footstep, mark or place      
     In either shade or sun:
The last year he’d a neighbour’s face,      
     In this he’s known by none.

All nothing everywhere:      
     Mists we on mornings see
Have more of substance when they’re here      
     And more of form than he.
He was a friend by every fire,      
     In every cot and hall–
A guest to every heart’s desire,      
     And now he’s nought at all.

Old papers thrown away,      
     Old garments cast aside,
The talk of yesterday,      
     Are things identified;
But time once torn away      
     No voices can recall:
The eve of New Year’s Day      
     Left the Old Year lost to all.