To-morrow, and a year is born again!
( To-day the first bud wakened‘ neath the snow. )
Will it bring joys the old year did not know,
Or will it burthen us with the old pain?
Shall we seek out the Spring — to see it slain?
Summer,— and learn all flowers have ceased to grow?
Autumn,— and find it overswift to go?
( The memories of the old year yet remain. )
To-morrow, and another year is born!
( Love liveth yet, O Love, we deemed was dead! )
Let us go forth and welcome in the morn,
Following bravely on where Hope hath led.
( O Time, how great a thing thou art to scorn! )
O Love, we shall not be uncomforted!