I br 'Dying of hunger and sorrow: br I die for my youth I fear!' br Murmured the midnight-haunting br Voice of the stricken Year. br There like a child it perished br In the stormy thoroughfare: br The snow with cruel whiteness br Had aged its flowing hair. br Ah, little Year so fruitful, br Ah, child that brought us bliss, br Must we so early lose you— br Our dear hopes end in this? br II br 'Too young am I, too tender, br To bear earth's avalanche br Of wrong, that grinds down life-hope, br And makes my heart's-blood blanch. br 'Tell him who soon shall follow br Where my tired feet have bled, br He must be older, shrewder, br Hard, cold, and selfish-bred— br 'Or else like me be trampled br Under the harsh world's heel. br 'Tis weakness to be youthful; br 'Tis death to love and feel.' br III br Then saw I how the New Year br Came like a scheming man, br With icy eyes, his forehead br Wrinkled by care and plan br For trade and rule and profit. br To him the fading child br Looked up and cried, 'Oh, brother!' br But died even while it smiled. br Down bent the harsh new-comer br To lift with loving arm br The wanderer mute and fallen; br And lo! his eyes were warm; br All changed he grew; the wrinkles br Vanished: he, too, looked young— br As if that lost child's spirit br Into his breast had sprung. br So are those lives not wasted, br Too frail to bear the fray. br So Years may die, yet leave us br Young hearts in a world grown gray.