You were here at his young beginning,
       &nbsp You are not here at his agèd end;
Off he coaxed you from Life’s mad spinning,
       &nbsp Lest you should see his form extend
       &nbsp       &nbsp Shivering, sighing,
       &nbsp       &nbsp Slowly dying,
       &nbsp And a tear on him expend.

So it comes that we stand lonely
       &nbsp In the star-lit avenue,
Dropping broken lipwords only,
       &nbsp For we hear no songs from you,
       &nbsp       &nbsp Such as flew here
       &nbsp       &nbsp For the new year
       &nbsp Once, while six bells swung thereto.