It tolls from the tower, and wakens the night;
Tolls the bell, telling us well
That "Eighty-five" we'll see no more;
The year which has yielded such precious store,
Brought us bounties unknown before.
Ah! never again shall we see its light;
With the toll of the bell, we must say farewell.
It rings from the tower, a midnight peal!
Rings the bell, telling us well
That Eighty-six is born to-night.
Eighty-six! so young and bright;
A brand-new year all plumed for flight.
Ah! precious year, may it bring us weal;
And its moments tell that we spent them well.
Rev. G. R. Alden.