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The Old Year

The Old Year's gone

To nothingness and night:

We cannot find him all the

Nor hear him in the night:

He left no footstep, mark or

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

Have more of substance when they're

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,

All things identified;

But times once torn

No voices can recall:

The eve of New Year's

Left the Old Year lost to all.

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John Clare

John Clare (13 July 1793 – 20 May 1864) was an English poet. The son of a farm labourer, he became known for his celebrations of the English cou…
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