V
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
· (no date)
Published 01/07/1880
Part of The Death of the Old Year
I heard just now the crowing cock.
The shadows flicker to and fro:
The cricket chirps: the light burns low:
'Tis nearly one o'clock.
Shake hands, before you die.
Old year, we'll dearly rue for you.
What is it we can do for you—
Speak out before you die.