NEWYORK TRIBUNE.

For Tha Tribans.
THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF THE YEAR

By 4 H. sroppAsp.
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BIZ II sToppAsp.



NErHoronr saw, in G:eam.


The wan Old Year dying
On couch Of wi.hered leaves


The Son Of Time was lying
A feeble wight, his head was white.
As with snoas twas covered
His beard did isok like icicles-
His breath around him hosered
Like a mat Or the frosty ai'.


Which made the Year SO old
Wrap bis mantle about his breas:
And shiver and shake with cold.
Old Father Time was there.


wan pale wight like hin,
He held up his head. and teas


Hung il his eyes SO dim.
Tad si,one in the furrows OF his old ehee%-
Tears OF sorrow and teen.
And ever and Oft he wiped them away
With the sleeve Of his saberdinc.
The Year be struggled soreIy.
Bu: Time he held him fast
a quiver along ms frame.
A gasp, ani the spirit passed
Anon with the New Year Winter came
To bury the dead Old Year.
They laid him in coffin rich.
And bore him ON bier.
With the music of solemn wailins winds
To n mighty sepulchre
In the burying ground Of the Past
Where his kin and children were
There was fowery Spring and Summer,
And Autumn with hair Of gold.
And place by the side of her
For Wi7ter the sexton old.
And as far as the eye could reach
In the distance dim was row
Of departed Years embalmed.
Buried with pomp and show.
They buried him soIemnly with the line
OfYsars in the sepulchre dim.
And offered a mas for the rest ofhis soul
Aud chanted funeral hymn,
And then, sorrowful band.
Departed with many tear.
While Time, with fatherly care. led on
To his place the infan. Year