 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
275
A Happy New Year.
1842.
There was gloom, there was grief, in the year that is sped;
But 'tis gone—and we will not speak ill of the dead!
Many joys it has left us, in friends that are dear,
And we'll wish one another a happy new year!
But 'tis gone—and we will not speak ill of the dead!
Many joys it has left us, in friends that are dear,
And we'll wish one another a happy new year!
Many joys it has left us; but some it has ta'en—
There were faces we never shall look on again;
Kind hearts ever ready to welcome and cheer,
That now cannot wish us a happy new year!
There were faces we never shall look on again;
Kind hearts ever ready to welcome and cheer,
That now cannot wish us a happy new year!
And some we must think of, the friends of our soul,
Though far they may be from our board and our bowl;
We know they have hearts that are warm and sincere,
And we'll wish them, though absent, a happy new year!
Though far they may be from our board and our bowl;
We know they have hearts that are warm and sincere,
And we'll wish them, though absent, a happy new year!
For those that are with us—their glances attest
That the same tide of feeling is high in each breast;
That one chain of kindness links all that are here,
As we wish one another a happy new year!
That the same tide of feeling is high in each breast;
That one chain of kindness links all that are here,
As we wish one another a happy new year!
Then, old friend, take my hand, and be sure—when I clasp—
There is heart in its pulse, there is soul in its grasp!
And if you could doubt it, this truth-speaking tear
Will tell how I wish you a happy new year!
There is heart in its pulse, there is soul in its grasp!
And if you could doubt it, this truth-speaking tear
Will tell how I wish you a happy new year!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Story | |