Poem April 20, 1912 ISSUE

[Written for the Sentinel.]

THE NEW YEAR

JOHN STEEN.

I.

Hark to yon throbbing thrush outside,Hailing the new year as his bride,And caroling his joyous praiseTo welcome ever-brightening days.Before the liquid light of dayThe dark, numb night soon fades away,Until the daylight reigns supremeWith naught of darkness to be seen.The sun, moved by one great desire,Is daily mounting ever higher,That he may bless the barren earth,Give the imprisoned flowers new birth,And garland wood, and bank, and brierWith blossoms of celestial fire.(He needs must dwell in light aboveTo bless the objects of his love.)

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