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New Year's MorningThis poetry by Helen Hunt Jackson expresses how Old
Year frets over its fate and envies all the new chances that New Year
will get. It reminds us of the opportunity to make a new beginning at
each sunrise and treat every day as a New Year day so that we can make
fresh starts and new projects without wasting away a year in useless
pursuits.
New Year's Morning Only a night from old to new! Only a night, and so much wrought! The Old Year's heart all weary grew, But said: "The New Year rest has brought The Old Year's hopes its heart laid down, As in a grave; but trusting, said: "The blossoms of the New Year's crown Bloom from the ashes of the dead." The Old Year's heart was full of greed; With selfishness it longed and ached, And cried: "I have not half I need. My thirst is bitter and unslaked. But to the New Year's generous hand All gifts in plenty shall return; True love it shall understand; By all my failures it shall learn. I have been reckless; it shall be Quiet and calm and pure of life. I was a slave; it shall go free, And find sweet pace where I leave strife." Only a night from old to new! Never a night such changes brought. The Old Year had its work to do; No New Year miracles are wrought. Always a night from old to new! Night and the healing balm of sleep! Each morn is New Year's morn come true, Morn of a festival to keep. All nights are sacred nights to make Confession and resolve and prayer; All days are sacred days to wake New gladness in the sunny air. Only a night from old to new; Only a sleep from night to morn. The new is but the old come true; Each sunrise sees a new year born.
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