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1875–1928

Memory

Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

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.”

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Memory · Isabel Ecclestone Mackay · Poetry Cove