* * The poetry of Ruth T. Whittlesey * *

New Year's Eve

Old Father Time sat on the steps

Near the little, old church door,

And he sighed to himself, and he said to himself,

As he had done before,

"My knees are baggy; my shoes are worn;

My coat is saggy; my elbows torn,

And that young man just over the way

Is probably scoffing, and well he may,

But it's nice to think at the set o' the sun

Of the few good deeds an old man has done."

And the nice young man came swinging along,

On his lips a smile, in his heart a song,

And he said to himself, as a young man will,

"That old duffer thinks I'm a fledgeling still,

But what will he think when my dreams come true?

For I'll show the world what a boy can do!"

But he thought as he donned his brand-new suit

And started to eat next day,

"Why, he's tired, and he's hungry, I'll give him a lift!"

But the old man had gone away.

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