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.”