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The Old and the New.
41
Such gifts as the earth
Never saw till my birth.
All the largess of life,
Right royally rife
With the plans and the schemes
Of the world's highest dreams;
Then, Hope's chalice filled up
To the brim of the cup,
Let us drink to the past,
The poor pitiful past,"
Sang the year that was young,
While his light laughter rung.
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