THE clock struck twelve in the tall church tower, And the old year slipped away, To be lost in the crowd of phantom years In the House of Dreams that stay All wrapped in their cloaks of gray. Then swift and sweet o'er the door's worn sill Came the youngest child of Time, With a gay little bow and a merry laugh, And a voice like bells achime, Challenging frost and rime. He found there was plenty for him to do, The strong and the weak were here, And both held out their hands to him And gave him greetings dear. The beautiful young new year. "You must bring us better days," they said, "The old year was a cheat." Which I think was mean when the year was dead; Such fate do dead years meet, To be spurned by scornful feet! "I bring you the best a year can bring," The new-comer stoutly spake, "The chance of work, the gift of trust, And the bread of love to break, If but my gifts you'll take!" The noblest thing a year can lay In the lap of you or me, The brave new year has brought this day— It is Opportunity, Which the wise are swift to see. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PIONEERS! O PIONEERS! by WALT WHITMAN SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 16 by BLISS CARMAN MAYAN TEMPLE by ADA CLARKE CARMICHIEL KING EDWIN'S FEAST by JOHN WHITE CHADWICK THE LAST PROOF; AN EPILOGUE TO ANY PROOF by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON QUID NON SPEREMUS, AMANTES by ERNEST CHRISTOPHER DOWSON SUNRISE IN THE HILLS OF SATSUMA by MARY MCNEIL SCOTT FENOLLOSA |