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The Old Year’s gone away

Monday, 31 December, 2012

Born in 1793 in Northamptonshire, John Clare was a fine poet and an excellent fiddle player. With this timely work, we wish all our readers health, wealth and happiness in 2013. Happy New Year!

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.

John Clare (1793 — 1864)

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