THE TWO ALMANACS—1892-1893.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume X, Issue 1, 7 January 1893, Page 23

THE TWO ALMANACS—1892-1893.

A FABLE. Upon a desk it chanced one day, Two almanacs together lay— One of the present year, and one With date of the old year, just gone — When, slightly raising up his head, The latter to his neighbour said : ‘ Dear neighbour, for what crime have I Deserved my altered destiny ? My master used to honour me, Each moment of the day would he Turn over and consult my page. But now, alas ! in my old age, Dishonoured to the dust I’m thrown, While he hath eyes for thee alone.’ The other then, in page and rim Quite fresh and new, thus answered him ‘ Thou art not of this age, my friend, And of thine own there is an end. Sunday with us, as thou mayest see, Is only Saturday with thee. Thou art, poor friend, a day too late Thou must blame nothing but thy date ; And if, thanks to my own, I’m now, What thou wert once, yet I trust bow To the same lot—to have lived my time Of twelve months more, my only crime !’ Thus all things change and pass away In this frail world. To outlive one day Is to be dead ; nothing is wrong, And men are charmed, just so long As we can serve them. Let us lose Our usefulness, and we abuse And call them ingrates. Be content, Men of bygone age, of power spent ; Old servants, veterans, human flowers Of withered beauty ; lovers, ye Who mourn your mistress’ perfidy— All are old almanacs.