A New Year's Eve in War Time

V

No figure appears,

No call of my name,

No sound but 'Tic-toc'

Without check. Past the gate

It clatters — is gone.

VI

What rider it bears

There is none to proclaim;

And the Old Year has struck,

And, scarce animate,

The New makes moan.

VII

Maybe that 'More Tears! —

More Famine and Flame —

More Severance and Shock!'

Is the order from Fate

That the Rider speeds on

To pale Europe; and tiredly the pines intone.