A Poem for the New Year

  Cradled in ice, and swathed in snows,
    And shining like a Christmas rose,
  Wreathed round with white chrysanthemums;
    Heaven in his innocent, brave blue eyes,
    Straight from the primal paradise,
  Behold the infant New Year comes!

  His looks a serious sweetness wear,
    As if upon that unseen way,
  Those baby hands that lightly bear
    Garlands, and festive tokens gay,
    For but a glance,—a touch sufficed,—
  Had met and touched the infant Christ!

  And lingering on the wing, had heard,
    Sweeter than song of any bird,
  Of cherub or of seraphim,
    The notes of that divinest hymn,—
    Glory to God in highest strain,
  And peace on earth, good will to men.

  Oh, diamond days, so royally set
    In winter's stern and rugged breast,
  Like jewels in an amulet,—
    Your light has cheered, and soothed, and blest,
    The want and toil, the sighs and tears,
  And sorrows-of a thousand years!

  The bells ring in the merry morn,
    The poor forget their poverty,
  The saddest face grows bright with glee,
    And smiles for joy that he is born;
    The fair round world shines out with cheer,
  To welcome in the glad New Year.

  Oh ye, whose homes are warm and bright,
    With plenty smiling at the board,
  Remember those whose roofs to-night,
    Nor warmth, nor light, nor food afford,
    Still make those wants, and woes your care,
  And let the poor your bounty share.

  For yet our hills and lakes along
    Echoes the herald angels' song,—
  Peace and good will!—oh look abroad,—
    In every nation, tribe, and clan,
    Behold the brotherhood of man,—
  Behold the Fatherhood of God!

  Peace to our mountains and our hills,—
    Peace to our rivers and our rills;—
  Our young Dominion takes her place
    Among the nations west and east,—
    God send her length of happy days,
  And years of plenty and of peace!

--Kate Seymour Maclean (1868)