The New-born Year.
Written Jan. 1, 1862.
Hail! new-bom Year, in whose glad face
A thousand promises we trace,
Of worldly blessings, Nature's gifts,
When from the earth the Storm King lifts
His icy hand, and bids appear
Sweet Spring; with visage mild and clear;
Whose birth the balmy violets tell
To primroses in mead and dell;
Let every human voice be raised
In one loud anthem—God be praised!
Anon the Summer flowers advance,
As Nature wakes from out her trance;
Rich Plenty, with an open hand,
Scatters abundance through the land;
The new mown hay its perfume yields,
And corn in blossom decks the fields;
Fruits ripe and luscious meet the eye.
Telling of Autumn by-and-bye.
Let every human voice be raised
In one loud anthem—God be praised!
Sun-burnt and laden. Autumn nears,
Tanning with brown the wheaten ears;
The thankful grain low bows its head
To passing breezes, quickly fled;
