Happy New Year 2019 Quotes, Wishes, Messages & Greetings
Youth is when you are allowed to stay up late on New Year’s Eve. Middle age is when you are forced to.
An optimist stays up until midnight to see the new year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves.
Happy New Year 2019
Many people look forward to the new year for a new start on old habits.
Be at War with your Vices, at Peace with your Neighbours, and let every New-Year find you a better Man.
-Quoted in Benjamin Franklin’s
Every man hath two birth-days: two days, at least, in every year, which set him upon revolving the lapse of time, as it affects his mortal duration. The one is that which in an especial manner he termeth his. In the gradual desuetude of old observances, this custom of solemnizing our proper birth-day hath nearly passed away; or is left to children, who reflect nothing at all about the matter, nor understand any thing in it beyond cake and orange. But the birth of a New Year is of an interest too wide to be pretermitted by king or cobbler. No one ever regarded the First of January with indifference. It is that from which all date their time, and count upon what is left. It is the nativity of our common Adam.
Every man should be born again on the first of January. Start with a fresh page. Take up one hole more in the buckle, if necessary, or let down one, according to circumstances; but, on the first of January let every man gird himself once more, with his face to the front, and take interest in the things that are and are to be, and not in the things that were and are past.
-Henry Ward Beecher
Last night, between eleven and twelve o’clock… the Old Year was leaving her final foot-prints on the borders of Time’s empire…. she thus awaited the midnight knell that was to summon her to the innumerable sisterhood of departed years….
The New Year…. greeted the disconsolate Old Year with great affection, and sat down beside her… waiting for the signal to begin her rambles through the world. The two were own sisters, being both grand-daughters of Time; and though one looked so much older than the other, it was rather owing to hardships and trouble than to age, since there was but a twelve-month’s difference between them.
“I have a fine lot of hopes here in my basket,” remarked the New Year. “They are a sweet-smelling flower—a species of rose.”
“They soon lose their perfume,” replied the somber Old Year. “What else have you brought to insure a welcome from the discontented race of mortals?”
“Happy New-year! happy New-year!” It is the day of hope and a fresh beginning. Old debts shall be forgiven; old feuds forgotten; old friendships revived. To‑day shall be better than yesterday. The good vows shall be kept. A blessing shall be wrung from the fleet angel Opportunity. There shall be more patience, more courage, more faith; the dream shall become life; to‑day shall wear the glamour of to‑morrow. Ring out the old, ring in the new! –George William Curtis
Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right.
While the bald trees stretch forth their long lank arms…
And nought more gladsome in the hedge is seen,
Than the dark holly’s grimly glistening green—
At such a time, the ancient year goes by
To join its parents in eternity—
At such a time the merry year is born,
Like the bright berry from the naked thorn.
The fire has burned low. The Old Year has gone. Let the dead past bury its own dead. The New Year has taken possession of the clock of time. All hail the duties and possibilities of the coming twelve months! Yet I do not see anything new about it. It is already fringed at the edges with inherited aches and unsolved problems…. O 1911! do your duty! ~Edward Payson Powell
My pipe is out, my glass is dry;
My fire is almost ashes too;
But once again, before you go,
And I prepare to meet the New:
Old Year! a parting word that’s true,
For we’ve been comrades, you and I —
I thank God for each day of you;
There! bless you now! Old Year, good-bye!
-Robert W. Service,
The bells ring out; the hoary steeple rocks—
Hark! the long story of a score of clocks;
For, once a year, the village clocks agree,
E’en clocks unite to sound the hour of glee—
And every cottage has a light awake,
Unusual stars long flicker o’er the lake.
The relentless punctuality, the unwearied urgency, of old Time, who turns his hour-glass with such a sonorous ring on New-year’s Day…
-George William Curtis
Comes now a smiling New-Born Year
To fill to-day with goodly cheer—
An infant hale and lusty.
Upon our door-sill he is left
By Daddy Time, of clothes bereft
Despite the season gusty.
If he be Churl or doughty Knight,
A Son of Darkness or of Light
No man can tell, God bless him!
But be he base or glorious
Time puts it wholly up to us
To dress him!
~John Kendrick Bangs
I fear thee not, O untried morrow!
-Julia B. Cady
Christmas-day is the pleasantest day in the whole year. On that day we think tenderly of distant friends; we strive to forgive injuries—to close accounts with ourselves and the world—to begin the new year with a white leaf, and a trust that the chapter of life about to be written will contain more notable entries, a fairer sprinkling of good actions, fewer erasures made in blushes, and fewer ugly blots than some of the earlier ones. ~Alexander Smith
Even while we sing he smiles his last,
And leaves our sphere behind.
The good old year is with the past;
Oh be the new as kind!
-William Cullen Bryant
Hope and faith flower from the cheerful seeds of the old year to the sprouting garden of the new year’s dawn. ~Terri Guillemets
O good New Year, we clasp
This warm shut hand of thine,
Loosing for ever, with half sigh, half gasp,
That which from ours falls like dead fingers’ twine:
Ay, whether fierce its grasp
Has been, or gentle, having been, we know
That it was blessed: let the Old Year go.
-Dinah Maria Craik
A Happy New Year! There is a glow of cheer and optimism in the very words “New Year.” The old year, with its anxieties and worries, is over. It too brought happy days and sunshine, and in memory we must cherish the bright places. ~May Louise Crane
New Year’s Day—Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual. Yesterday, everybody smoked his last cigar, took his last drink, and swore his last oath. Today, we are a pious and exemplary community. Thirty days from now, we shall have cast our reformation to the winds and gone to cutting our ancient shortcomings considerably shorter than ever. We shall also reflect pleasantly upon how we did the same old thing last year about this time. However, go in, community. New Year’s is a harmless annual institution, of no particular use to anybody save as a scapegoat for promiscuous drunks, and friendly calls, and humbug resolutions, and we wish you to enjoy it with a looseness suited to the greatness of the occasion. ~Mark Twain
When then is lost, as time is by,
we look upon the yearly wine
to see our substance in the lees.
Did tribe and purse most pleasing leave?
To look for clear and faithful sense,
that gives a bodied stance bouquet,
then see the vat at mirror’s face
and find in it, the yearly pace.
Many years ago I resolved never to bother with New Year’s resolutions, and I’ve stuck with it ever since.
-David J. Beard
I am fading from you,
But one draweth near,
Called the Angel-guardian
Of the coming year.
If my gifts and graces
Coldly you forget,
Let the New Year’s Angel
Bless and crown them yet…
May you hold this Angel
Dearer than the last,—
So, I bless his Future,
While he crowns my Past.
-Adelaide A. Procter
I have always liked the idea of hearing the clock strike twelve on the last night of the old year…. wakeful to welcome the new year’s angel when the old one has winged his flight from us, bearing with him the record of our inner years, its sins and sorrows.
But then I do think New Year’s resolutions can’t technically be expected to begin on New Year’s Day, don’t you? Since, because it’s an extension of New Year’s Eve, smokers are already on a smoking roll and cannot be expected to stop abruptly on the stroke of midnight with so much nicotine in the system. Also dieting on New Year’s Day isn’t a good idea as you can’t eat rationally but really need to be free to consume whatever is necessary, moment by moment, in order to ease your hangover. I think it would be much more sensible if resolutions began generally on January the second. ~Helen Fielding
New Year’s Eve, where auld acquaintance be forgot. Unless, of course, those tests come back positive.
For ’tis the season, when the nights are long,
There’s time, e’er morn, for each to sing his song.
The year departs, a blessing on its head,
We mourn not for it, for it is not dead:
Dead? What is that? A word to joy unknown,
Which love abhors, and faith will never own.
There is too much said at New Year’s about turning over a new leaf. Are the old leaves all so badly written that we must hasten to forget them? Is the blank whiteness of the untouched page more pleasant to the eye or more fortifying to the will than those closely written, underlined, untidy, but familiar pages which make up the story of one’s life? ~Bliss Perry
Now the year is dying fast…
All his children stand around…
Twelve there are: I dimly mark
All their figures in the dark,
Hovering near the patriarch…
Pressing the year’s death-cold brow,
I rose up with many a vow.
There are those who try to bottle the old year for safekeeping but at midnight the cork always pops.
All the west, whereon the sunset sealed the dead year’s glorious grave
Fast with seals of light and fire and cloud that light and fire illume,
Glows at heart and kindles earth and heaven with joyous blush and bloom,
Warm and wide as life, and glad of death that only slays to save…
-Algernon Charles Swinburne
Farewell, Old Year! the rustle of whose garment,
Fragrant with memory, I still can hear:
For all thy tender kindness and thy bounty
I drop my thankful tribute on thy bier.
What is in store for me, brave New Year, hidden
Beneath thy glistening robe of ice and snows?
Are there sweet songs of birds, and breath of lilacs,
And blushing blooms of June’s scent-laden rose?…
-Julia B. Cady
The rose of the old year withers away as the new bud begins to bloom.
One resolution I have made, and try always to keep, is this: to rise above the little things.
A spirit haunts the year’s last hours
Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers…
The air is damp, and hush’d, and close,
As a sick man’s room when he taketh repose
An hour before death;
My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves
At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves,
And the breath
Of the fading edges of box beneath,
And the year’s last rose…
But can one still make resolutions when one is over forty? I live according to twenty-year-old habits.
The old year dies and we face the new year as though it were an entity, new as a newborn babe. A new calendar with twelve leaves, one for each month. Something in us, some need for the specific, the orderly, the mathematical exactitude, calls for such demarcation. Yet any year, regardless of arbitrary time, is like a circle; you can start at any point upon it and, following the circle, you come back to that point. Our year, our circle, happens to be a cycle of the seasons, planting, growing, reaping, resting; and thus it is a part of the earth, the soil and the flowing waters as well as of the stars by which it is gauged…. And year’s end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us.
For to-night is the last day of the olden year:
And ages and cycles long bygone,
They are circling around and hovering near;
They have woven his robe and twined his crown,
And are waiting about to carry him down….
So the Old Year sits with his friends together,
And they scoff in their hearts at the surly weather.
He is dead, he is dead, and his requiem swells
As in turret and tower a thousand bells
Ring and swing with a clangorous din,
And the wild winds carry the New Year in.
Of all sound of all bells—(bells, the music most bordering upon heaven)—most solemn and touching is the peal which rings out the Old Year. I never hear it without a gathering-up of my mind to a concentration of all the images that have been diffused over the past twelvemonth; all I have done, or suffered; performed, or neglected; in that regretted time. I begin to know its worth, as when a person dies. It takes a personal colour…. It is no more than what in sober sadness every one of us seems to be conscious of in that awful leave-taking.
Lord, as the New Year dawns today,
Help me to put my faults away.
Let me be big in little things;
Grant me the joy which friendship brings;
Keep me from selfishness and spite,
Let me be wise to what is right.
A Happy New Year! grant that I
May cause no tear to any eye.
When this new year in time shall end,
Let it be said: “I’ve played the friend,
Have lived and loved and labored here
And made of it a happy year.”
Since, then, we cannot stop the flight of Time, let him pass. But he must not calumniate as he passes. He must not be allowed to stigmatize vigor and health and freshness of feeling and the young heart and the agile foot as old merely because of a certain number of years. This is the season of good resolutions. The new year begins in a snow-storm of white vows. So be it. But let our whitest vow be, after that for a whiter life, that age shall no longer be measured by this arbitrary standard of years, and that those deceitful and practical octogenarians of thirty shall not escape as young merely because they have not yet shown the strength to carry threescore and ten with jocund elasticity.
Then Happy New-year shall not mean Good-night, but Good-morrow.
A new year is simply the turn of a calendar page — and a beautiful chance for us to turn over a new leaf.
Old Year! upon the Stage of Time
You stand to bow your last adieu;
A moment, and the prompter’s chime
Will ring the curtain down on you.
Your mien is sad, your step is slow;
You falter as a Sage in pain;
Yet turn, Old Year, before you go,
And face your audience again.
-Robert W. Service
Soon we will have completed our annual list of good intentions. Across the country there are millions of cigarettes waiting to be stomped out, tons of fat waiting to be lost, miles to be run, lives to be organized, selves to be improved.
Once again, we will pass resolutions as if we were our own Congress, legislating changes in our lives. On a million scraps of paper, we will publish an updated catalog of promises to be filed on the shelf of the self….
But I have a feeling that our resolutions have more to do with controlling our lives than enriching them….
We spend Jan. 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a punch list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. We decide that it’s time to get a painful grip on ourselves….
But life improvement is not just a matter of discipline, self-control. It’s a matter of expansion, the deliberate pursuit of happiness….
We ought to walk through the rooms of our lives a second time, not looking for the flaws, but for potential.
I brought good desires,
Though as yet but seeds;
Let the New-Year make them
Blossom into Deeds.
I brought joy to brighten
Many happy days;
Let the New-Year’s Angel
Turn it into praise.
If I gave you sickness,
If I brought you care,
Let him make one Patience,
And the other Prayer.
Where I brought you sorrow,
Through his care, at length,
It may rise triumphant
Into future strength.
If I brought you plenty,
All wealth’s bounteous charms,
Shall not the New Angel
Turn them into alms.
-Adelaide A. Procter
May all your troubles last as long as your New Year’s resolutions.
Hope came to me last New Year, and told her pretty lie,
How she’d make the earth grow greener, how she’d scour up the sky,
How she’d make the stars shine brighter, ere the coming year was done,
Make the grave moon more resplendent, polish up the ancient sun….
-Sam Walter Foss
He who breaks a resolution is a weakling; He who makes one is a fool. ~F.M. Knowles, quoted in Laughter, the Best Medicine: Holidays: Ho, Ho, Ha! The Merriest Jokes, Quotes, and Cartoons by the Editors of Reader’s Digest, 2012
The object of a New Year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul and a new nose, new feet, a new backbone, new ears, and new eyes. Unless a man starts on the strange assumption that he has never existed before, it is quite certain that he will never exist afterward.
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
The old year cracks under the burdensome weight of twelve heavy months, and the next year emerges fresh and anew from its shell.
The Pope and the Parliament played havoc with the date of the proper annual emotion. Moreover, if a man should happen to think of it, every day is a new-year’s day. If we propose a prospect or a retrospect we can stand tiptoe on the top of every day, yes, and of every hour, in the year. Good-morning is but a daily greeting of Happy New-year….
But we are children of the new style, and the first of January is our New-year. That is our day of remembrance, our feast of hope, the first page of our fresh calendar of good resolutions, the day of underscoring and emphasis of the swift lapse of life.
-George William Curtis
To the far-off, invisible shore
He is going, returning no more;
For the toll,
Startling out from the steeples of brass,
Proclaims the illustrious pass
Of the dead year’s soul.
Stern Autumn, the purple-robed priest,
His sublime incantation hath ceased;
Wails the white weaver, Winter, aloud,
And he fashions the folds of the shroud
To apparel the dead.
The proper behavior all through the holiday season is to be drunk. This drunkenness culminates on New Year’s Eve, when you get so drunk you kiss the person you’re married to.
They come, they go, they change, they do not die.
So the Old Year—that fond and formal name,
Is with us yet, another and the same.
And are the thoughts, that ever more are fleeing,
The moments that make up our being’s being…
Are these less vital than the wave or wind.
Or snow that melts and leaves no trace behind?
Oh! let them perish all, or pass away,
And let our spirits feel a New Year’s day.
Approach the New Year with resolve to find the opportunities hidden in each new day.
We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day.
-Edith Lovejoy Pierce
It’s not what you eat between Christmas and New Year’s that matters—it’s what you eat between New Year’s and Christmas that counts. ~William A. Canady
Another twelve months passed away…
Day follows night, and night the day…
But what are nights and what are days,
Wherein to thread this mortal maze….
I held the earth within my hand…
Then tried to count its golden sand…
And counting it the decades flew
Swift as the flight of wild sea-mew…
Year’s end comes on the wings of a chattering jay and a cawing crow, and a wind that rustles the sere oak leaves in the star-glimmered night. The jay chatters of short Winter days, and the crow caws of the long Winter nights. And the wind’s song is the song of time, of the years, the endless round of years.
Ring out, O bells, ring silver-sweet o’er hill and moor and fell!
In mellow echoes let your chimes their hopeful story tell.
Ring out, ring out, all jubilant, this joyous glad refrain:
“A bright new year, a glad new year, hath come to us again!”
Ah, who can say how much of joy within it there may be
Stored up for us, who listen now to your sweet melody?
Good-bye, Old Year, tried, trusty friend, thy tale at last is told.
O New Year, write thou thine for us in lines of brightest gold.
Some welcome it
others fight it
a few don’t even care
but whatever viewpoint
you subscribe to,
the new year arrives
like a hare!
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
About New Year’s I grit my teeth, I brace my feet an’ swear
Thet I’ll rastle with ol’ Satan an’ down him everywhere…
An’ so, on January first, ‘neath Virtue’s soft caress,
I feel all soaked in sanctity, an’ steeped in righteousness,
A sort er walkin’ meetin’-house, all sin-born fears are fled—
For, don’t the righteous own the earth, an’ ain’t the devil dead?
But the day after New Year’s Day, the devil moves his head,
An’ I am all broke up to find the old scamp isn’t dead;
An’ later in the afternoon, he jest begins to blink,
An’ has the cheek to lift his head, ‘an cock his eye an’ wink…
-Sam Walter Foss
Each New Year’s Day is like starting over on a treasure hunt, with a slightly altered map. ~Terri Guillemets
A Friend stands at the door;
In either tight-closed hand
Hiding rich gifts, three hundred and threescore:
Waiting to strew them daily o’er the land
Even as seed the sower.
Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil. They give us, now and then, some of those luxurious sterile emotions that have a certain charm for the weak. That is all that can be said for them. They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have no account.
Last night the Old Year passed away, all
Scarred with guilt and sin;
This morn the New Year, pure and white,
Time’s angel ushered in.
The starry midnight gates were flung
Upon their hinges wide,
The angels dipped their silv’ry oars in
Time’s incoming tide.
-Eliza A. Wetherby Otis
Heap on more wood!—the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We’ll keep our Christmas merry still.
Each age has deemed the new-born year
The fittest time for festal cheer…
For hark! the last chime of the dial has ceased,
And Old Time, who his leisure to cozen,
Has finish’d the Months, like the flasks at a feast,
Is preparing to tap a fresh dozen!
While angels sing with tender mirth,
A glad new year to all the earth.
A New-Year’s day—’tis but a term of art,
An arbitrary line upon the chart
Of Time’s unbounded sea—fond fancy’s creature,
To reason alien, and unknown to nature.
Nay—’tis a joyful day, a day of hope!…
And we, whom many New-Year’s days have told
The sober truth, that we are growing old—
For this one night—aye—and for many more,
Will be as jocund as we were of yore,
Kind hearts can make December blithe as May,
And in each morrow find a New-Year’s day.
The old year is gone, the new year begun, and those of us who set store by the calendar draw a line to sum up a total, since it is man’s habit to count the minutes and the days and try to map time. Nature, of course, has her own map of time, and although man’s calculations may approximate it, they miss the mark repeatedly. If we insist on starting the year in mid-Winter, the solstice would be the logical moment, and the solstice occurred nine days ago. The ancients, being practical people, started their year with the vernal equinox, the beginning of Spring.
But, being insistently illogical, we follow long habit and ingrained tradition and give this day unwonted significance. We draw a mythical total line, hoping somehow to stop time long enough to sum up. But even before we have totted the first column, time has gone beyond us. Time doesn’t wait for totals. Only the tax collector can command time, and even he can’t check the sun in its course. The sun already leans toward Spring and another Summer. -Hal Borland
To our savage as well as our animal ancestors, spring was a time of awakening from the winter’s torpor, a time of throbbing pulse, of eager running hither and thither, of combat and mating and rioting. It was the real New Year, and should be ours instead of that pale, frost-bitten shadow of a shade which the almanacs have deluded us into anæmically celebrating in midwinter.
The New Year opens most beautifully to me with all my dear ones in good health, & each busy & happy in their own peculiar way. -Anna Alcott Pratt
Whether we want them or not, the New Year will bring new challenges; whether we seize them or not, the New Year will bring new opportunities.
The last fire of many that have blazed on my hearth these twelve months gone is fast sinking into ashes. I do not care to revive its expiring flame, because I find its slow fading into darkness harmonious with the hour and the thought which comes with it as the shadow follows the cloud. While it is true that our division of time into years is purely conventional, and finds no recognition or record on the great dial face of the heavens, no man can be quite oblivious of it. New Year’s eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things that the passage of another twelve months may be noted; and yet no man has quite the same thoughts this evening that come with the coming of darkness on other nights. The vast and shadowy stream of time sweeps on without break, but the traveler who has been journeying with it cannot be entirely unmindful that he is perceptibly nearer the end of his wanderings.
-Hamilton Wright Mabie
New Year’s Day;
Nothing good or bad,—
Just human beings.
Like age, a new year is just a number. ~Terri Guillemets
The wave is breaking on the shore,—
The echo fading from the chime,
Again the shadow moveth o’er
The dial-plate of time!
-John Greenleaf Whittier
I think in terms of the day’s resolutions, not the year’s.
-Attributed to Henry Moore
October began as new months are wont to do—their beginnings are perfectly modest and hushed, with no outward signs, no birthmarks. Indeed, they steal in silently and quite unnoticed, unless you are paying very strict attention. Time has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year. Even when a new century begins it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols.
And now from yonder hill the sun’s bright beams
Shine through the mist, and flood the world with light;
The path winds on, leaving our broken dreams
Of tangled briar and brake far out of sight.
The dawn of hope has come our heart to cheer;
The path before us shines in the sun’s ray.
We follow on, into the coming year,
And in hope’s sunshine greet each op’ning day.
December Thirtieth.—Ah! welladay, the sand is nearly run out. Will the year be marked for good or for ill in the Book of Time? Have I done my best? Wist ye that nought matters if we have done right and kept straight ahead? And the year that is coming, what does it hold for me? It matters not, all will be well, and one step is enough at a time. There will be strength enough for the one day whatever happens. Life is a difficult thing to understand; but then there is no need to understand here, if we only trust. ~Helen Rose Anne Milman Crofton
I made no resolutions for the New Year. The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning and molding my life, is too much of a daily event for me.
Unlike other deaths,
years to not die from sickness
their time just comes—
perhaps a little weary
from a twelvemonth of toil
but neither sad nor glad to go;
‘Tis been a pleasure to be of service,
the faithful companion old year says
with a bow as he parts
And seamlessly the new is born
with experience somehow already in hand
to begin the first January morn.
Why wont they let a year die without bringing in a new one on the instant, cant they use birth control on time? I want an interregnum. The stupid years patter on with unrelenting feet, never stopping—rising to little monotonous peaks in our imaginations at festivals like New Year’s and Easter and Christmas—But, goodness, why need they do it?
-John Dos Passos
O great Today! We hail thee as a child
Of all Time’s ages, and the New Year’s dawn,
Crowned with the garnered glory of the centuries,
Proclaims the coming of a grander morn.
-Eliza A. Wetherby Otis
Hark, the Cock crows, and you, bright Star,
Tells us the day himself’s not far…
With him old Janus does appear,
Peeping into the future Year…
Why should we then suspect or fear
The Influences of a year
So smiles upon us the first morn,
And speaks us good so soon as born?
Pox on’t! the last was ill enough…
And then the next in reason shou’d
Be superexcellently good:
For the worst ills we daily see,
Have no more perpetuity
Than the best Fortunes that do fall;
Which also bring us wherewithall
Longer their being to support,
Than those do of the other sort…
When Time has set the shadow of
His frown upon the hills…
And belted hist’ry’s landscape with
His russet swath of death,
A happy new-year then I wish
To all who share my breath.
-Arad Joy Sebring
A new year begins, as we say. And the latent bud on the branch doesn’t stir one whit, the blossom in the bulb sleeps undisturbed in the frozen ground. The woodchuck’s hibernating pulse doesn’t quicken one beat, and the deer in the thicket is just as hungry as he was yesterday. Man is the only animal to whom this new year is important. All the others live by day and the season.
The Old Year is slowly dying,
Without a tear or groan;
He is old and cold and aweary,
And he sleeps and makes no moan:—
Sleeps and dreams of the lilies
That lay in the hand of Spring,—
Of the Summer’s regal beauty,
Of October’s blossoming…
And so he, sleeping, lieth;
And so the night wears on;
While the New Year, brave and buoyant,
Comes over the hills of dawn…
The Old and the New together:—
So come and so go the years;
So in all life’s good-byes and greetings
We mingle our smiles and our tears.
So, hope-lit New Year, with thy joys uncertain,
Whose unsolved mystery none may foretell,
I calmly trust my God to lift thy curtain:
Safe in his love, for me ’twill all be well.
-Julia B. Cady
You can press the old year betwixt the pages of a book, but alas! the new chapter always gets written.
————————————————————————————————————————————“In this new year, may you have a deep understanding of your true value and worth, an absolute faith in your unlimited potential, peace of mind in the midst of uncertainty, the confidence to let go when you need to, acceptance to replace your resistance, gratitude to open your heart, the strength to meet your challenges, great love to replace your fear, forgiveness and compassion for those who offend you, clear sight to see your best and true path, hope to dispel obscurity, the conviction to make your dreams come true, meaningful and rewarding synchronicities, dear friends who truly know and love you, a childlike trust in the benevolence of the universe, the humility to remain teachable, the wisdom to fully embrace your life exactly as it is, the understanding that every soul has its own course to follow, the discernment to recognize your own unique inner voice of truth, and the courage to learn to be still.”