THE STRIKE.

The bells that ring the Old Year out

Went clashing through the summer night;
The quaking hour was put to rout.
Nor paused to show a moments fight;
One thin mosquito raised a shout
Of fiendish malice and delight.
I felt as solemn as a cow
While from the steeple o!erhead
The bells with fretful rage and row
"roclaimed the passing moments dead;
# fe!ered thought was in m$ brow
That would not let me go to bed.
%&uppose' I said m$ soul within(
Though outwardl$ m$ lips were dumb(
%In answer to that bra)en din
The New Year should decline to come
This world of cabbage soap and sin
Would find the situation rum.
%The Old Year was a hea!$ clown
*is quips and cranks were sad and stale
+ut is it wise to turn him down
Or bash his features with a rail
When no one in this blessed town
,an for another $ear go bail-'
The bells rang with a clang and shock
+ut I was full of doubt and fear
The nois$ clamor seemed to mock
&ome ps$chic discord in m$ ear;
I sat and watched the eight.da$ clock
Till /anuar$ should appear.
The pendulum with solemn swing
0$ senses seemed to o!erpower
It ticked and tacked like an$thing
The trembling moments to de!our
#s if it reall$ sought to bring
The Old Year past the dreaded hour.
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#nd then a frightful thing occurred
# thing that filled me with despair
#nd made me lift up hands absurd
To tear out bunches of m$ hair(
Beyond the hour it never stirred,
But stuck and stayed exactly there.
The $ear was gone be$ond recall
The wheels that work the world were stuck.
. . . . . . .
I saw a spirit fair and tall
Who blandl$ smiled and wished me luck
&he said2 %"oor sla!e that wert his thrall
#rise3 +e glad3 Old Time has struck3'
,urse o 0oses
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nd
/anuar$ 1516 p. 16.
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