Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 106

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
   The flying cloud, the frosty light:
   The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
   Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
   The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind
   For those that here we see no more;
   Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
   And ancient forms of party strife;
   Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
   The faithless coldness of the times;
   Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
   The civic slander and the spite;
   Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
   Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
   Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson | English poet | Britannica

Alfred Lord Tennyson died over 130 years ago, and yet this poem feels as fresh and prescient today as one imagines he must have felt in writing it. I don’t know if that’s an indictment of our times, or of humankind writ large….

And that’s how I feel about that.
Goodbye, 2020, and good riddance!

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