<html xmlns:o="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" xmlns:w="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:word" xmlns:m="http://schemas.microsoft.com/office/2004/12/omml" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"><head><meta http-equiv=Content-Type content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name=Generator content="Microsoft Word 15 (filtered medium)"><style><!--
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--></style></head><body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink="#954F72" style='word-wrap:break-word'><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal>Hi Ann:</p><p class=MsoNormal>First poem I’ve read by Tennyson and I like it allot.</p><p class=MsoNormal>Personified a good year in his life and the whish it could have continued very well.</p><p class=MsoNormal>Also, once events are done we live with the consequences or morn their passing as a part of our own lifes short and measured years.</p><p class=MsoNormal>Thanks for posting it:</p><p class=MsoNormal>Richard R. Thomas (Rick USA)</p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Sent from <a href="https://go.microsoft.com/fwlink/?LinkId=550986">Mail</a> for Windows</p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><div style='mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-top:solid #E1E1E1 1.0pt;padding:3.0pt 0in 0in 0in'><p class=MsoNormal style='border:none;padding:0in'><b>From: </b><a href="mailto:stylist@nfbnet.org">Ann Chiappetta via Stylist</a><br><b>Sent: </b>Saturday, December 31, 2022 1:33 PM<br><b>To: </b><a href="mailto:stylist@nfbnet.org">Writers' Division Mailing List</a><br><b>Cc: </b><a href="mailto:anniecms64@gmail.com">Ann Chiappetta</a><br><b>Subject: </b>[Stylist] a New Year Poem</p></div><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>The Death of the Old Year<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Alfred, Lord Tennyson <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Full knee-deep lies the winter snow, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>And the winter winds are wearily sighing: <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Toll ye the church bell sad and slow, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>And tread softly and speak low, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>For the old year lies a-dying. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Old year you must not die; <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> You came to us so readily, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> You lived with us so steadily, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Old year, you shall not die. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>He lieth still: he doth not move: <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>He will not see the dawn of day. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>He hath no other life above. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>He gave me a friend and a true truelove <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>And the New-year will take ’em away. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Old year you must not go; <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> So long you have been with us, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Such joy as you have seen with us, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Old year, you shall not go. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>He froth’d his bumpers to the brim; <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>A jollier year we shall not see. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>But tho’ his eyes are waxing dim, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>And tho’ his foes speak ill of him, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>He was a friend to me. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Old year, you shall not die; <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> We did so laugh and cry with you, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> I’ve half a mind to die with you, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Old year, if you must die. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>He was full of joke and jest, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>But all his merry quips are o’er. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>To see him die across the waste <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>His son and heir doth ride post-haste, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>But he’ll be dead before. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Every one for his own. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> The night is starry and cold, my friend, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> And the New-year blithe and bold, my friend, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Comes up to take his own. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>How hard he breathes! over the snow <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I heard just now the crowing cock. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>The shadows flicker to and fro: <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>The cricket chirps: the light burns low: <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>’Tis nearly twelve o’clock. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Shake hands, before you die. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Old year, we’ll dearly rue for you: <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> What is it we can do for you? <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Speak out before you die. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>His face is growing sharp and thin. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Alack! our friend is gone, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Close up his eyes: tie up his chin: <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Step from the corpse, and let him in <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>That standeth there alone, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> And waiteth at the door. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> There’s a new foot on the floor, my friend, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> And a new face at the door, my friend, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> A new face at the door. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on December 31, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>Ann M. Chiappetta, M.S.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>Making Meaningful ConnectionsThrough Media <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>914.393.6605 USA<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><a href="mailto:Anniecms64@gmail.com"><span style='color:#0563C1'>Anniecms64@gmail.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>All things Annie: <a href="http://www.annchiappetta.com"><span style='color:#0563C1'>www.annchiappetta.com</span></a> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>