Farewell, oh! Year of shadows; not alone
The shade of War has ever been with thee,
But Famine, in our land so little known,
Has cast on us a gloom of misery;
Oh! Lancashire, diseased and hard to cure,
God help thy blameless sons, to whom have come
In splendid silence, eloquently dumb!
Our sympathy is shown by word and deed,
England is proud to hear the story told
How all came rushing in the hour of need,
And one poor had even come with gold!
They all bring help to give the people bread,
And sometime we shall see them as they are,
The good girl with a crown upon head,
The poor man’s penny shining like a star!
Let us grow kinder as the years pass by,
For what is freely given from our store
Comes back in richer wealth of charity,
To make us better, happier than before.
Our latest meeting ere the season ends
Is near, then let there be no crack of doubt
In the rare vase of love! Come, all my friends,
And round the fire we’ll see the Old Year out!
Farewell! Old Year, dethroned mighty king,
Leave us in peace! take with thee grief and pain,
With dreadful shapes that swell their gloomy train;
And yet, Old Year, a sad farewell we say
To some sweet hours of thine; when thou art gone
We look indeed for many a brighter day,
And wait far off to see the glimmering dawn.
Arise, New Year, for thine are clearer skies,
And Hope is one good angel sent with thee,
And Pity, with sweet sorrow in her eyes,
And tender hands to help our misery
Will come with thee! But what New Year will rbing
The bond of love that fits our mortal state,
And draw round all the world its charmed ring,
While at the feet of God we work and wait?