For works with similar titles, see The New Year.
A year without a sorrow
Or a cross,
Or dread of any morrow
Bringing loss. Could it be?
A year of light, with shadow
Scarcely one?
Of fruits in every meadow,
Thistles none. Will it be?
A year of many roses
And few thorns;
A year that brighter closes
Than it dawns. May it be!
A year of God’s unfolding
Wider wings;
A year of man’s beholding
Better things. Must it be!
This work was published before January 1, 1927, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is licensed under Creative Commons - Attribution - Sharealike. Additional terms may apply for the media files.