Thou new-born year! thou span yet undefined,
Portion of time unknown, I fain would greet
Thy opening dawn with salutation kind,
And would, reluctant, fleeting guest! entreat
With us sojourning, yet a longer stay;
Or wilt thou like thy parent haste away?
Thou new-born year! why should the joyous smile
Of reckless riot, usher in thy name?
And why should dissipation e'er beguile
The sons of men, when Reason would proclaim
Life is a vapour, hastening Time recedes,
Eternity is near with all its deeds!
What art thou, gliding portent! but the note
That speak'st, though dumb, existence' passing knell?
Thy warning strains though they unheeded float
Along our passage, to the traveller tell
"Depart, poor pilgrim, leave this vale, unbless'd,
Arise, ye giddy, this is not your rest."
Vision of future days, fair blooming year!
Thou evanescent! soon, alas, thy flight
Shall be the theme, for thou wilt disappear,
Thou too wilt slumber in the iron night
Of by-past ages, on the hoary scroll
Be chronicled, whose page none may unroll.
Child of the past,--herald of years to come,
I greet thy entrance, for thou tellest me
In accent kind, that soon my reckoned sum
Of months will be fulfilled, and I shall be
No more a wanderer in a sunless way,
Where disappointment droops beneath the world's cold ray.
