Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/273

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A NEW YEAR

Behold! a new white world!
The falling snow
Has cloaked the last old year
And bid him go.

To-morrow! cries the oak
To his lone heart,
My sealed buds shall fling
Their leaves apart.

To-morrow! pipes the thrush,
And once again
How sweet the nest that long
Was full of rain.

To-morrow! bleats the sheep,
And one by one
My little lambs shall play
Beneath the sun.

For us, too, let some fair
To-morrow be,
O Thou who weavest threads
Of Destiny!

Thou wast a babe on that
Far Christmas Day,
Let us as children go
Upon Thy way.

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