Poems (Gifford)/The New Year
For works with similar titles, see The New Year.
THE NEW YEAR.
This is the New Year! Countless chroniclers
Of steady time have struck the midnight hour;
And in hushed darkness face to face we stand
With the opposing possibilities
Of this fresh fraction of the centuries,
Whose ripples reach unto eternity.
Well do we know this New Year shall embrace
Desolate winter, glorious summer days,
Spring hopefulness, and autumn's sure decay.
Now shall the heaven above us be a stretch
Of undimmed sunlit azure, and now flecked
With beauteous cloudlets floating fairy-like;
Now shall thick fogs obscure it, and again
Shall dull, dense masses of dark tempest-cloud
Heave in tumultuous billows o'er the sky.
Then, yet again, shall mystic night reveal
In varied phases the calm, queenly moon;
Th' erratic planets and far distant stars,
Waking high thoughts of untold, unknown realms.
Now shall the fierce wind blow, and now be stayed;
Now shall the rain and now the snow prevail;
Now frost, now sultry stillness, now soft airs;
Now shall the lightning-flash and thunder-peal
Strike terror all around; now shall the sea
Be lashed to fury, and now undisturbed
Save by its never-ceasing ebb and flow.
Day after day the sun shall rise and set,
Day alternate with night, and the wide world
Shall sleep and wake, and sleep and wake again,
And all shall typify the changefulness
Of this year's slow-enacting history
Of nations and of every human life.
There shall be conflict, victory, defeat,
Rebellion, controversy, progress, mirth,
Hurry and rush, and stillness all enforced,
Festival, funeral, labour, and repose,
Luxury, poverty, and love, and hate,
And works of kindliness and awful deeds.
Here death shall enter, there new life shall come,
Here hearts shall blend in happy union,
And there be severed, sorrowful and lone;
Here shall prosperity succeed to loss,
There pain to pleasure, and there rest to toil;
But ever where grief awaits good hovers near,
And where joy sails some ballast must be borne,
Or it will soon capsize.
Of steady time have struck the midnight hour;
And in hushed darkness face to face we stand
With the opposing possibilities
Of this fresh fraction of the centuries,
Whose ripples reach unto eternity.
Well do we know this New Year shall embrace
Desolate winter, glorious summer days,
Spring hopefulness, and autumn's sure decay.
Now shall the heaven above us be a stretch
Of undimmed sunlit azure, and now flecked
With beauteous cloudlets floating fairy-like;
Now shall thick fogs obscure it, and again
Shall dull, dense masses of dark tempest-cloud
Heave in tumultuous billows o'er the sky.
Then, yet again, shall mystic night reveal
In varied phases the calm, queenly moon;
Th' erratic planets and far distant stars,
Waking high thoughts of untold, unknown realms.
Now shall the fierce wind blow, and now be stayed;
Now shall the rain and now the snow prevail;
Now frost, now sultry stillness, now soft airs;
Now shall the lightning-flash and thunder-peal
Strike terror all around; now shall the sea
Be lashed to fury, and now undisturbed
Save by its never-ceasing ebb and flow.
Day after day the sun shall rise and set,
Day alternate with night, and the wide world
Shall sleep and wake, and sleep and wake again,
And all shall typify the changefulness
Of this year's slow-enacting history
Of nations and of every human life.
There shall be conflict, victory, defeat,
Rebellion, controversy, progress, mirth,
Hurry and rush, and stillness all enforced,
Festival, funeral, labour, and repose,
Luxury, poverty, and love, and hate,
And works of kindliness and awful deeds.
Here death shall enter, there new life shall come,
Here hearts shall blend in happy union,
And there be severed, sorrowful and lone;
Here shall prosperity succeed to loss,
There pain to pleasure, and there rest to toil;
But ever where grief awaits good hovers near,
And where joy sails some ballast must be borne,
Or it will soon capsize.
All this shall be,
As in the years that we have known of old;
Yet who that greets this dawning of the year
Can surely guess what for himself awaits,
Which shall preponderate, or ease, or care?
God only knows; but, oh! to know He knows,
And orders all with wise, unerring love,
Resolves all questioning to trustfulness.
Together everything shall work for good,
And all shall work towards one glad New Year
That days shall measure not, nor months, a year
When all things shall be new—new heavens, new earth,
Without or sun or sea; where shall be known
No fluctuation between pain and peace,
But infinite variety of joy.
As in the years that we have known of old;
Yet who that greets this dawning of the year
Can surely guess what for himself awaits,
Which shall preponderate, or ease, or care?
God only knows; but, oh! to know He knows,
And orders all with wise, unerring love,
Resolves all questioning to trustfulness.
Together everything shall work for good,
And all shall work towards one glad New Year
That days shall measure not, nor months, a year
When all things shall be new—new heavens, new earth,
Without or sun or sea; where shall be known
No fluctuation between pain and peace,
But infinite variety of joy.