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.