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.
John Clare
English, 1793 – 1864
English, 1793 – 1864
Images:
Triumph of Time, The Master of Petrarch's
Triumphs
French, 15th to 16th century
Personification of Time in a
flower garland, Carstian Luyckx
Flemish, 1623 - 1675
A Masque of Days, Walter Crane
English, 1845 - 1915
A Masque of Days, Walter Crane
English, 1845 - 1915