Some day, when trees have shed their leaves

         And against the morning's white

The shivering birds beneath the eaves

         Have sheltered for the night,

We'll turn our faces southward, love,

         Toward the summer isle

Where bamboos spire to shafted grove

         And wide-mouthed orchids smile.

And we will seek the quiet hill

         Where towers the cotton tree,

And leaps the laughing crystal rill,

         And works the droning bee.

And we will build a cottage there

         Beside an open glade,

With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,

         And ferns that never fade.

What can be said in New Year rhymes,
That's not been said a thousand times?

The new years come, the old years go,
We know we dream, we dream we know.

We rise up laughing with the light,
We lie down weeping with the night.

We hug the world until it stings,
We curse it then and sigh for wings.

We live, we love, we woo, we wed,
We wreathe our brides, we sheet our dead.

We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,
And that's the burden of the year.