Memory

A YEAR is a thief

Who comes in the guise of a friend

Saying, “Let us travel together,

We have much to give each other.

See, I hold back nothing —

For what is giving

Between friends?”

Yet when the year departs

He takes his gifts with him —

“Oh, Robber!” we cry,

Aghast and weeping,

“Nay,” he replies, “I did but lend.

Still, for your weeping, I will leave you something.

It is not the real thing

But you may keep it always.”