A New Year's Greeting
TO A CIRCLE OF FRIENDS.
A kindly greeting to you all—
To all an opening year of gladness;
May never sorrow round you fall
More dark than evening's twilight sadness.
The wintry blast may whistle shrill,
And clouds may dim the face of heaven;
But Friendship's wreath shall blossom still,
On this our gladsome New-Year's even.
While lips and hearts are smiling thus,
And hands are fondly clasp'd together,
Oh what are cloudy skies to us,
Or fortune's bright or sunny weather?
We may not meet, to hail again
Another year with hearts of lightness;
Some beating pulse may rest ere then,
Some eye have lost its wonted brightness.
We may have met, perchance—alas!
To mingle hearts and then be parted;
Or some dark blight may o'er us pass,
And leave us lone and broken-hearted.
But let the future smile, or frown,
The wing of hope is waving o'er us;
One gem of bliss is still our own,
And one bright rose of joy before us.
Then may the rose be cherish'd well—
The sparkling gem be sullied never—
And parted Friendship's only knell,
Be when our hearts are still'd forever.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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New Year
Farewell to the old year forever,
And all its sorrows and care
We'll bury in our hearts, and endeavor
New troubles and trials to bear.
The old year has gone with its sadness,
In oblivion to dwell evermore;
The new year will come with its gladness,
To welcome the rich and the poor.
Ah, welcome the new year with pleasure,
And welcome home friends, that is dear;
Be happy and joyful together,
And greet each happy new year.
Some people will meet in sadness,
For death has entered their home,
And robbed them of joy and gladness,
And left them forsaken and lone.
Young people not meet it in sorrow,
For their hearts are blithesome and gay,
Trouble will come with to-morrow,
So let them be happy to- day.
Farewell to the old year forever;
Lay its sorrows aside with a tear.
Think of the future; and endeavor
To greet each happy new year.
poem by Julia A Moore
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To Sara
.
ONE happy year has fled, Sall,
Since you were all my own,
The leaves have felt the autumn blight,
The wintry storm has blown.
We heeded not the cold blast,
Nor the winter's icy air;
For we found our climate in the heart,
And it was summer there.
II.
The summer's sun is bright, Sall,
The skies are pure in hue;
But clouds will sometimes sadden them,
And dim their lovely blue;
And clouds may come to us, Sall,
But sure they will not stay;
For there's a spell in fond hearts
To chase their gloom away.
III.
In sickness and in sorrow
Thine eyes were on me still,
And there was comfort in each glance
To charm the sense of ill.
And were they absent now, Sall,
I'd seek my bed of pain,
And bless each pang that gave me back
Those looks of love again.
IV.
Oh, pleasant is the welcome kiss,
When day's dull round is o'er,
And sweet the music of the step
That meets me at the door.
Though worldly cares may visit us,
I reck not when they fall,
While I have thy kind lips, my Sall,
To smile away them all.
poem by Joseph Rodman Drake
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To Sarah
I
One happy year has fled, Sall,
Since you were all my own,
The leaves have felt the autumn blight,
The wintry storm has blown.
We heeded not the cold blast,
Nor the winter's icy air;
For we found our climate in the heart,
And it was summer there.
II
The summer's sun is bright, Sall,
The skies are pure in hue;
But clouds will sometimes sadden them,
And dim their lovely blue;
And clouds may come to us, Sall,
But sure they will not stay;
For there's a spell in fond hearts
To chase their gloom away.
III
In sickness and in sorrow
Thine eyes were on me still,
And there was comfort in each glance
To charm the sense of ill.
And were they absent now, Sall,
I'd seek my bed of pain,
And bless each pang that gave me back
Those looks of love again.
IV
Oh, pleasant is the welcome kiss,
When day's dull round is o'er,
And sweet the music of the step
That meets me at the door.
Though worldly cares may visit us,
I reck not when they fall,
While I have thy kind lips, my Sall,
To smile away them all.
poem by Joseph Rodman Drake
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True Friendship
They say this world is fraught with guile
They say that lips may wear a smile,
And yet the heart be cold the while,
As Zembla's sparkling icicle.
They say that those beloved for years,
Will fly when adverse fate appears,
And meet us ‘midst our lonely tears,
With eye averted scornfully.
Believe it not—oh no! oh no!
True hearts there are, that love not so,
But closer twine in grief and woe,
And love ev'n more in misery!
There may be some, perchance, whose eye
Will only smile when hope is high,
And from the couch of sorrow fly,
To meet in sounds of revelry.
Yet think not all are false and fair!
Though hearts of truth, alas! be rare,
Some, some, at least, will surely bear
The test of dark adversity.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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One Year
One year, two hearts have learned to grow
across divides of time and tide,
one year, two hearts have learned to sow
seeds free from weeds, no need to hide.
One year saw challenges well met
with optimistic insight shared,
one year two never will forget,
from oblivion forever spared.
One year, joy norm became to show,
true tenderness which will abide,
one year, where rich affection's flow
formed base for future starry eyed.
One year upon time's wings has let
beginnings blossom into light,
one year where fears, frustrations, fret
dissolved ‘spite distance dynamite.
One year embraced shared dreams below
skies blue, horizons warm and wide,
year's ride beyond blocks, rocks, start slow
accelerated side by side.
One year: each second's silhouette
shines through linked lines inked allegro,
one year discarding pain, regret,
as equals, neither high nor low.
One year, from quest to twinned jest's glow,
from bud to bloom, gloom thrust aside,
one year where two have grown to know
vim, vain objection's override.
One year may many more beget,
revealing gifts love may bestow
in countless ways, as hearts' duet
ignores walls, calls to Maude and Co.
(16 April 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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'Til The Season Comes 'round Again
Come and gather around at the table
In the spirit of family and friends
And we'll all join hands and remember this moment
'Til the season comes 'round again.
Let's all try to smile for the picture
And we'll hold it as long as we can
May it carry us through
Should we ever get lonely
'Til the season comes 'round again.
Chorus:
One night holy and bright
Shining with love from our hearts
By a warm fire,
Let's lift our heads high
And be thankful we're here
'Til this time next year.
May the new year be blessed
With good tidings
'Til the next time I see you again
If we must say goodbye
Let the spirit go with you
'Til the season comes 'round again.
Chorus:
One night holy and bright
Shining with love from our hearts
By a warm fire,
Let's lift our heads high
And be thankful we're here
'Til this time next year.
One night holy and bright
Shining with love from our hearts
By a warm fire,
Let's lift our heads high
And be thankful we're here
'Til this time next year.
May the new-year be blessed with good tidings
'Til the next time I see you again
And we'll all join hands and remember this moment
And we'll love and we'll laugh
In the time that we had
'Til the season comes 'round again.
If we must say goodbye
Let the spirit go with you
'Til the season comes 'round again...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sunset Thoughts Of A Dying Child
Friends! do you see in yon sunset sky,
That cloud of crimson bright?
Soon will its gorgeous colors die
In coming dim twilight;
E’en now it fadeth ray by ray—
Like it I too shall pass away!
Look on yon fragile summer flower
Yielding its sweet perfume;
Soon shall it have lived out its hour,
Its beauty and its bloom:
Trampled, ’twill perish in the shade—
Alas! as quickly shall I fade.
Mark you yon planet gleaming clear
With steadfast, gentle light,
See, heavy dark clouds hovering near,
Have veiled its radiance bright—
As you vainly search that gloomy spot,
You’ll look for me and find me not!
Turn now to yonder sparkling stream,
Where silver ripples play;
Dancing within the moon’s pale beam—
Ah! short will be their stay,
They break and die upon the shore—
Like them I soon shall be no more!
Yes! emblems meet of my career,
Are ripple, cloud, and flower;
Fated like me to linger here,
But for a brief, bright hour—
And then, alas! to yield my place;
And leave, perchance, on earth no trace!
No trace, my friends, save in your hearts,
That pure and sacred shrine—
Where, ’spite life’s thousand cares and arts,
A place shall yet be mine;
And love as deep as that of yore—
Though on this earth we meet no more!
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Ellen
Sweet star, of seraph brightness,
That for a transient day
Shed o'er our souls such lightness,
And then withdrew the ray!
O, with immortal lustre
Thou 'rt sparkling brightly now
Amid the gems that cluster
Around Jehovah's brow!
Yet many hearts are keeping
Lone vigils o'er thy grave,
Where all the hopes are sleeping
Which thy young promise gave.
The sleep which knows no waking
Hath closed thy sweet blue eyes,
And while our hearts are breaking
We glance toward the skies.
Ah! there a hope is given
That bids us dry the tear;
That bright star in the heaven,
With beams so wondrous clear;--
'Tis Ellen's 'distant Aidenn,'
Far in the realms above,
And those clear rays are laden
With her pure spirit's love.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Care For One Another..
Look at the hearts only,
Beating inside punctually,
as the stars majestically,
One above other vertically,
Hearts are beating vibrantly.
One above the other in high rise,
hearts toil with no surprise,
as the galaxies and constellations,
Hearts are beating horizontally,
Few hearts in big space,
Many hearts in small place,
as the diamonds twinkle in space,
Hearts are found in the ocean,
Hearts are there in the mountains,
Hearts are loitering in the jungles,
Hearts are beating in places,
as the planted gems above us,
Daring hearts are weak,
Weaker hearts are strong,
Most hearts are healthy,
Run and work in safety,
A few suffer and are sickly,
Clogged with fat and heavy,
Rich and poor man's hearts,
Educated and uneducated hearts,
Good and evil hearts,
Agnostic and spiritual hearts,
Healthy and sick hearts,
Beat everywhere to show,
That we care for one another,
and we love one another,
as we look at the stars,
the stars look at our hearts.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Circle
Of fog enchanted dawns
Starry nights alone
Of sunsets going on
Into forever
Lovers lying silent
Hearts beating together
Beating as one
....a poem is born
To have and to hold love
Fragile as the rose
To the past memories
On going thereof
Mothers holding babies
Hearts beating together
Beating as one
The circle is done
October 27,1996
poem by Midnights Voice
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What Real Friendship Is
Friendship sails 'cross all kinds of seas-
The calm, the stirred, the galed...
Serene, difficult and outright stormy...
But true friendship-it never fails;
You come together open-hearted-
With profound respect and devotion-
Tied together with a common thread-
That can sustain any waves of the ocean;
The mark of true friendship stands...
Even when ones skies turn grey-
It is not just partial to sunny fair weather...!
Or absolute attendence come what may! ;
For oft' times we get side tracked...
From our own personal tragedies or worse...
Leaving us sometimes absent but never forgetting...
Our true friends in lifes most gifted verse;
For true friendship is not picky-!
It doesn't correct, fault find or critisize...!
It is a blessing as sure as Gods love-
A most cherished gift in our lives;
May 24,2010
Love And Friendship
By Emily Bronte
Love is like the wild rose briar
Friendship like the holly tree
The holly is dark when the rose briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild rose-briar is sweet in the Spring
Its Summer blossoms scent the air
Yet wait till Winter comes again
And who will call the wild briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the hollys sheen
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.
poem by Theodora Onken
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Christmas in Australia
O DAY, the crown and crest of all the year!
Thou comest not to us amid the snows,
But midmost of the reign of the red rose;
Our hearts have not yet lost the ancient cheer
That filled our fathers’ simple hearts when sere
The leaves fell, and the winds of Winter froze
The waters wan, and carols at the close
Of yester-eve sang the Child Christ anear.
And so we hail thee with a greeting high,
And drain to thee a draught of our own wine,
Forgetful not beneath this bluer sky
Of that old mother-land beyond the brine,
Whose gray skies gladden as thou drawest nigh,
O day of God’s good-will the seal and sign!
poem by Victor James Daley
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New Year's Eve Midnight
There is excitement in the air
Hearts are bubbling with joy and light
We feel the Death that is near
And we sit in wait wit smiles wide and bright.
This is the end we all wish to witness
The only Death we want to see so often
This is the time to forgive and to bless
Because a year is dead; boxed in a coffin.
This has always been our sole wish
The only resolution we would die to achieve
That we travel the time between the Ram and the Fish
That we always remain here and never leave.
As we watch the year gasp his Last
We see our pains flickering in His eyes
The dear ones that are now naught but dust
And the dreams that have long seen their demise.
So we cover the Year in His shroud
With mixed feelings of love and hate
Then we recite his elegy out loud
And light the straw to His body cremate
Into the open sea the licking flames go
Sailing away with dark memories three hundred and sixty-five days old
The wind is whispering what we already know
That we let go and face the New Year all strong and bold
With lighter hearts we await the midnight howl
The first cry of the New Born One
Desperately we wish it to cry and never yowl
So our days never dim but always have the Sun
At last the time is apt to forgive a debt
For the New Year is finally here
Now we begin another journey hoping to win the ultimate bet
'Who lives longer - Me or the Year? '
poem by Goddy MensahNab
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Only Dreams
A maiden sat in teh sunset glow
Of the shadowy, beautiful Long Ago,
That we see through a mist of tears.
She sat and dreamed, with lips apart,
With thoughtful eyes and a beating heart,
Of the mystical future years;
And brighter far than the sunset skies
Was the vision seen by the maiden's eyes.
There were castles built of the summer air,
And beautiful voices were singing there,
In a soft and floating strain.
There were skies of azure and fields of green,
With never a cloud to come between,
And never a thought of pain;
There was the music, sweet as the silvery notes
That flow from a score of thrushes' throats.
There were hands to clasp with a loving hold;
There were lips to kiss, and eyes that told
More than the lips could say.
And all the faces she loved were there,
With their snowy brows untouched by care,
And locks that were never grey.
And Love was the melody each heart beat,
And the beautiful vision was all complete.
But the castles built of the summer wind
I have vainly sought. I only find
Shadows, all grim and cold; -
For I was the maiden who thought to see
Into the future years, - Ah, me!
And I am grey and old.
My dream of earth was as fair and bright
As my hope of heaven is to-night.
Dreams are but dreams at the very best,
And the friends I loved lay down to rest
With their faces hid away.
They had furrowed brows and snowy hair,
And they willing laid one day.
A shadow came over my vision scene
As the clouds of sorrow came in between.
The hands that I thought to clasp are crossed,
The lips and the beautiful eyes are lost,
And I seek them all in vain.
The gushes of melody, sweet and clear,
And the floating voices, I do not hear,
But only a sob of pain;
And the beating hearts have paused to rest.
Ah! dreams are but dreams at the very best.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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To Hope
Oh! take, young Seraph, take thy harp,
And play to me so cheerily;
For grief is dark, and care is sharp,
And life wears on so wearily.
Oh! take thy harp!
Oh! sing as thou wert wont to do,
When, all youth's sunny season long,
I sat and listened to thy song,
And yet 'twas ever, ever new,
With magic in its heaven-tuned string—
The future bliss thy constant theme.
Oh! then each little woe took wing
Away, like phantoms of a dream;
As if each sound
That flutter'd round,
Had floated over Lethe's stream!
By all those bright and happy hours
We spent in life's sweet eastern bow'rs,
Where thou wouldst sit and smile, and show,
Ere buds were come, where flowers would blow,
And oft anticipate the rise
Of life's warm sun that scaled the skies;
By many a story of love and glory,
And friendships promised oft to me;
By all the faith I lent to thee,—
Oh! take, young Seraph, take thy harp,
And play to me so cheerily;
For grief is dark, and care is sharp,
And life wears on so wearily.
Oh! take thy harp!
Perchance the strings will sound less clear,
That long have lain neglected by
In sorrow's misty atmosphere;
It ne'er may speak as it hath spoken
Such joyous notes so brisk and high;
But are its golden chords all broken?
Are there not some, though weak and low,
To play a lullaby to woe?
But thou canst sing of love no more,
For Celia show'd that dream was vain;
And many a fancied bliss is o'er,
That comes not e'en in dreams again.
Alas! alas!
How pleasures pass,
And leave thee now no subject, save
The peace and bliss beyond the grave!
Then be thy flight among the skies:
Take, then, oh! take the skylark's wing,
And leave dull earth, and heavenward rise
O'er all its tearful clouds, and sing
On skylark's wing!
Another life-spring there adorns
Another youth—without the dread
Of cruel care, whose crown of thorns
Is here for manhood's aching head.
Oh! there are realms of welcome day,
A world where tears are wiped away!
Then be thy flight among the skies:
Take, then, oh! take the skylark's wing,
And leave dull earth, and heavenward rise
O'er all its tearful clouds, and sing
On skylark's wing!
poem by Thomas Hood
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The Battle Field
The last fading sunbeam has sunk in the ocean,
And darkness has shrouded the forest and hill;
The scenes that late rang with the battle's commotion,
Now sleep ‘neath the moonbeams serenely and still;
Yet light misty vapours above them still hover,
And dimly the pale beaming crescent discover,
Though all the stern clangour of conflict is over,
And hush'd the wild trump-note that echoed so shrill.
Around me the steed and the rider are lying,
To wake at the bugle's loud summons no more—
And here is the banner that o'er them was flying,
Torn, trampled, and sullied, with earth and with gore.
With morn—where the conflict the wildest was roaring,
Where sabres were clashing, and death-shot were pouring,
That banner was proudest and loftiest soaring—
Now, standard and bearer alike are no more!
All hush'd! not a breathing of life from the numbers
That scatter'd around me so heavily sleep,—
Hath the cup of red wine lent its fumes to their slumbers,
And stain'd their bright garments with crimson so deep?
Ah no! these are not like gay revellers sleeping,
The night-winds, unfelt, o'er their bosoms are creeping,
Ignobly their plumes o'er the damp ground are creeping,
And dews, all uncared for, their bright falchions steep.
Bright are they? at morning they were—ay, at morning,
Yon forms were proud warriors, with hearts beating high,
The smiles of stern valour their lips were adorning,
And triumph flash'd out from the glance of their eye!
But now—sadly alter'd, the evening hath found them,
They care not for conquest, disgrace cannot wound them,
Distinct but in name, from the earth spread around them,
Beside their red broad-swords, unconscious, they lie.
How still is the scene! save when dismally whooping,
The night-bird afar hails the gathering gloom;
Or a heavy sound tells that their comrades are scooping
A couch, where the sleepers may rest in the tomb.
Alas! ere yon planet again shall be lighted,
What hearts shall be broken, what hopes will be blighted,
How many, ‘midst sorrow's dark storm-clouds benighted,
Shall envy, e'en while they lament, for their doom.
Oh war! when thou ‘rt clothed in the garments of glory,
When Freedom has lighted thy torch at her shrine
And proudly thy deeds are emblazon'd in story,
We think not, we feel not, what horrors are thine.
But oh! when the victors and vanquish'd have parted,
When lonely we stand on the war-ground deserted,
And think on the dead, and on those broken-hearted,
Thy blood-sprinkled laurel-wreath ceases to shine.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Til The Season Comes Around Again
til the season comes round again
(john jarvis, randy goodrum)
Come and gather round at the table
In the spirit of family and friends
And well all join hands and remember this moment
til the season comes round again
So let us smile for the picture
And well hold it as long as we can
May it carry us through should we ever get lonely
til the season comes round again
Bridge:
One night, holy and bright
Shining with love from our hearts
By a warm fire lets lift our hands high
And be thankful were here til this time next year
May the new year be blessed with good tidings
til the next time I see you again
If we must say goodbye let the spirit go with you
til the season comes round again
Repeat bridge
May the new year be blessed with good tidings
til the next time I see you again
And well all join hands and remember this moment
And well love and well laugh in the time that we have
til the season comes round again
til the season comes round again
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Raise a Glass at Christmas!
Here's a special toast to my family and friends.
My chance to wish you good cheer.
Here's hoping your wishes and dreams all come true
At this magical time of the year.
Here's to the memory of loved ones we've lost,
And those who are far, far away.
Here's to keeping the spirit of Christmas alive
And maintaining it, day after day.
Here's to fun, love and laughter the whole year through.
May your hearts be filled with delight.
Here's to fond celebrations with those you hold dear
And a future that's happy and bright.
poem by Dawn Ferrett
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til The Season Comes Round Again
(john barlow jarvis, randy goodrum)
Come and gather round at the table
In the spirit of family and friends
And well all join hands and remember this moment
til the season comes round again
So let us smile for the picture
And well hold it as long as we can
May it carry us through should we ever get lonely
til the season comes round again
Bridge:
One night, holy and bright
Shining with love from our hearts
By a warm fire lets life our hands high
And be thankful were here til this time next year
May the new year be blessed with good tidings
til the next time I see you again
If we must say goodbye let the spirit go with you
til the season comes round again
Repeat bridge
May this new year be blessed with good tidings
til the next time I see you again
Well all join hands and remember this moment
And well love and well laugh in the time that we have
til the season comes round again
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Was Christmas For?
What was Christmas truly for, as on the Season we close that door?
As a New Year for all starts, and the Christmas Season now departs.
Does the Christmas spirit depart, from each and every human heart?
As Christmas trim is tucked away, will the spirit in some hearts stay?
Was Christmas truly meant for this, for once a year to change gifts?
Especially within the hearts of us, who in The Savior place our trust?
Shouldn’t Christmas that we know, be His Light in us for all to show,
The Truth and life we have in Him, who came to dwell forever within?
Should not Christmas be a song, we sing in our hearts all year long?
As in our hearts we joyfully sing, to Jesus Christ, our Lord and King.
A song which should never leave, the heart of those who do believe,
Saved by Grace from this world, with that Christmas Song to herald.
A song we sing all year through, as The Spirit moves in me and you,
To be a light men need each day, not just thought of Christmas day,
Song and light, throughout the year, which every man needs to hear,
This, so men may see their need, that God’s message they will heed.
Some men desire Christmas in July, but, did you ever question why?
A time when gifts aren’t bought at all; could it be music to their soul?
Maybe the songs that they heard, moved their hearts to God’s Word,
With a message, when not ignored, could draw any soul to The Lord.
(Copyright ©12/2008)