Adieu, old year, may ling'ring petals of earth's roses sweet,
That crept across the Christmastide to grace thy parting feet,
Bring mem'ries sacred unto all from every battle fane,
Where heroes fought—and yet where sleep our boys on field and main.
Adieu, old year, may angels trace them—living, maimed or dead—
As fadeless gold and silv'ry orbs of heaven gleam o'erhead,
And loyal incense waft from shrines of homelands—near and far—
'Mid chimes of Victory that tell of noblest aims of war.
Adieu, old year, may never fade the lily—flower of Peace,
Thy hand uplifts to hallow earth with truths that never cease!
May it live on to blossom with a tender solace true
O'er every human pathway of the yet untrodden New!
ANNIE M. TOOHEY.
Troy Times. December 31, 1918: 4 col 3.