Thompson, Priscilla Jane
|TO THE NEW YEAR.|
PRINCE NEW YEAR, welcome to thy throne,
King Old Year is no more;
Since he hath bid the world adieu,
The cumb'rous duty falis to you,
To rule his Kingdom o'er.
Capricious was thy reverend sire,
Whilst on the throne he sate,
Sometime she made me to rejoice
With richest treasures of my choice,
And blessings truly great.
And then, again he bowed me low,
With such a pond'rous load,
My heart within me sorely bled;
And many were the tears I shed,
While groping long the road.
Again he suffered me to tread
That milder path between;
Where neither leaped my pulses glad,
Nor did my life blood slacken sad;
For quiet ruled supreme.
And yet, despite his fitful mood,
Kind hath he been to me;
For every trial made me strong
In battle, as I journeyed 'long,
To broader spheres and free.
A respite did his sunshine give,
To rest my weary feet;
And what with shine, and what with shade,
And wholesome mixture hath he made,
To make my life complete,
And now, that he hath passed away,
Sad tears mine eyes bedew:
Oh, mavst thou be as true, fair Prince,
And reign o'er us as nobly, since
His Kingdom falls to you,