Passing of the Old Year

Mary Weston Fordham

Ah! the year is slowly dying,
And the wind in tree-top sighing,
   Chant his requiem.
Thick and fast the leaves are falling,
High in air wild birds are calling,
   Nature’s solemn hymn.

In the deep, dark forest lingers,
Imprints of his icy fingers,
   Chill, and dark, and cold.
And the little streamlets flowing,
Wintry sun so softly glowing,
   Through the maple’s gold.

So, Old Year, gird on your armor,
Let not age, nor fear, nor favor,
   Hurry you along.
List! the farewell echoes pealing,
List! the midnight hour is stealing,
   Hark! thy dying song.

Say, Old Year, ere yet your death knell
Rings from out yon distant church bell,
   Say, what have you done?
Tell of hearts you’ve sadly broken,
Tell of love dead and unspoken,
   Ere your course is run.

Tell the mother who doth languish,
O’er her graves in silent anguish,
   She will see again,
Blooming bright “beyond the river,”
Living on for aye an ever,
   Every bright-eyed gem.

Ah! full many a spirit weary,
You have wooed from paths so dreary,
   Wafted them above.
Now they say Old Year, we bless thee
Raise thy head, we would caress thee
   For this home of love.

On thy brow lies many a furrow,
And thy eyes tell many a sorrow
   Hath its shadow cast.
But thy task is almost ended,
Soon the path which thou hast wended,
   Will be called the “Past.”

Then, old dying year we hold thee,
To our hearts we fondly fold thee,
   Ere the midnight bell.
Soon thy race will now be ended,
With Eternity be blended,
   So, Old Year, farewell.

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on December 28, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.

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about this poem

“Passing of the Old Year” appears in the one poetry volume, Magnolia Leaves (Tuskegee Institute, 1897), written by Mary Weston Fordham. In the book’s introduction, Booker T. Washington wrote, on December 6, 1897: “I give my cordial endorsement to this little ‘Book of Poems,’ because I believe it will do its part to awaken the Muse of Poetry which I am sure slumbers in very many of the Sons and Daughters of the Race of which the Author of this work is a representative. The Negro’s right to be considered worthy of recognition in the field of poetic effort is not now gainsaid as formerly, and each succeeding effort but emphasizes his right to just consideration. The hope, I have, is, that this Volume of ‘Poems’ may fall among the critical and intelligent, who will accord the just meed of praise or of censure, to the end that further effort may be stimulated, no matter what the verdict. The readers I trust will find as much to praise and admire as have I done.”

Mary Weston Fordham was born c. 1843. She was an African American poet and the author of Magnolia Leaves (Tuskegee Institute, 1897), her sole collection. Weston Fordham ran her own school during the Civil War and worked as a teacher for the American Missionary Association, an abolitionist group that later founded nine historically Black colleges and universities. She died in 1905.

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