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Thy life is ebbing fast, thou aged Year! This night that wintry sun of thine will set To rise no more. Thy days are told: and It seems but yesterday thou didst appear! But yesternight we watched, all silent here, The Old Years dying hours, while backward rolled Its story, page by page; and now, behold! Thy course is run. Even now thy moments wear The fading hue of death. Farewell, old Friend! Fain would we linger by thy side awhile, And gather up thy mem'ries one by one, While, in the vacant chairs, dear faces smile Upon us, as of old. But ever on, Life's current bears us--swifter to the end. - [Old Year]
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