ODE
TO
THE
OLD
YEAR
,
1787.
LET
courtly
bards
,
in
courtly
lay
,
Invoke
the
muse
on
New
Year's
day
,
Prophetic
,
future
times
unfold
,
Or
tell
again
the
tales
of
old
;
For
me
,
I
sing
,
in
strains
sincere
,
A
grateful
tribute
due
to
the
departed
year
.
Glad
I
behold
our
native
isle
In
wealth
,
in
peace
,
in
honours
smile
;
The
balance
hold
with
steady
hand
,
And
discord
cease
at
her
command
:
The
dogs
of
war
compell'd
to
wait
,
And
Janus
close
again
his
half
unfolded
gate
.
I
love
the
months
whose
calm
career
Have
left
me
what
my
heart
holds
dear
;
They
gave
me
health
,
and
peace
,
and
ease
;
Who
would
not
sing
for
gifts
like
these
?
With
me
,
the
sense
must
still
remain
,
And
mark
this
polish'd
link
of
time's
eternal
chain
.
Time
,
the
consoler
,
slowly
brings
Peace
on
his
variegated
wings
;
He
steals
away
the
rose
,
'tis
true
,
But
then
the
thorn
is
blunted
too
;
Before
him
hope's
illusions
fly
,
And
all
imagination's
vain
chimeras
die
.
The
bitter
griefs
,
the
fleeting
joys
,
Which
fancy's
busy
power
employs
,
To
retrospective
reason
seem
The
phantoms
of
a
troubled
dream
:
The
feverish
vision
fades
away
,
And
leaves
the
soul
in
peace
its
tenement
of
clay
.
I
view
the
social
circle
round
,
And
ev'ry
well
known
face
is
found
.
My
heart
expands
within
my
breast
,
Each
selfish
,
gloomy
care
at
rest
,
Joyful
I
sing
,
in
strains
sincere
,
Praise
to
the
Power
Supreme
,
who
guides
the
circling
year
.