![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xAA5zYShGIYkanhunU622GER9cRhA7_-N3GhNJqhjdrBxRyT01eznAChyQkOAvx234nNPeZwIZVT3y3ZEWunDRpCJhLn2_EuaVFYjLvzp04WX0YbnoPqoe4-AEWUiZdYiF2B9Q/s400/armc.jpg)
But in the arm-chair I see
My old friend, for long years installed here,
Who palely nods to me.
The new man explains what he's planning
In a smart and cheerful tone,
And I listen, the while that I'm scanning
The figure behind his own.
The newcomer urges things on me;
I return a vague smile thereto,
The olden face gazing upon me
Just as it used to do!
And on leaving I scarcely remember
Which neighbour to-day I have seen,
The one carried out in September,
Or him who but entered yestreen.
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