I greet thee, brave and coming year!
With thy unwritten, snowy page,
And dash away the unshed tear
Would dim thee with its dull presage!
Hope dances from her dewy bower
Thy early footstep to beguile;
And Love, as fresh as Eden's flower,
Shall wave thee onward with a smile.
Why carry to thy record fair
The cares, the sorrows, buried, past?
Let them float backward on the air,
And perish like the ocean blast.
Despair our speech has iron-bound,
The stoutest heart has often quailed;
We've flouted Fortune as she frowned,
But was it Fate, or we, who failed?
Oft Destiny holds this surprise.
Fate, smiling, slowly drops her mask;
Our pain was blessing in disguise,
And health was hidden in the task.
We weave but blindly at the loom.
Nor see the picture, save in parts;
Not ours to mark the gleam or gloom.
But labour on with patient hearts.
When the bright angel overhead
The soul-wrought tapestry unfurls.
Perhaps the tears we slowly shed
May gleam amid the gold like pearls.
The sorrow which has crushed the life,
A lily blooms, on azure field;
And daily care and toil and strife
In bud and flower may stand revealed.
One thing is left us undisturbed —
We still can work and love and give.
No matter how the life's perturbed.
If, living, wc learn how to live.
Then come, thou young and sturdy year,
Come with proud port, and step elate!
If dawn is dark, noon may be clear:
Come, give us heart for any fate!
