The earth is tried thro' every clime
By every eager race,
And does not lose, thro' lapse of time,
Her first primeval grace.
The new year comes amid the snow,
The little untried year,
And on the steep the violets blow,
What time the Spring is here!
Oh, the new year is begun
And the battle is not won!
Ere another year begin
Shall we lose or shall we win?
The eager grass shall lift its head
From out of the withered sheath;
Even so a newer life is made
The fruit of last year's death;
The year has come, the year has gone,
The worn, forgetful year;
The violets on the slope have blown
And are no longer here!
O the new year shall begin;
Who shall lose and who shall win?
Is the battle won or lost
With the blackening of the frost?
Oh, the earth is young, is young!
Wait! the new year is not old–
Half the song is yet unsung,
Half the tale is yet untold;
For the living tree shall bud,
And the rotten limb shall fall,
And the birds sing in the wood,
And the year be young for all.
Ah! the new year is begun
And the victory is not won!
But it shall be ours to win
Ere another year begin!