here there are a bundle poem of New Year,,(English Language) PART 1
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Happy New Year
Let us all gather round and cheer,
With a drink of wine or an ice cold beer
Perhaps you're like me and don't drink the swill,
Or your like my grandparents who live on pills.
Maybe this world seems harsh at times,
Or its just that most of us just like to whine.
I'd say that this is a great place to be,
It all depends on how we can see.
True we've had bad things in the past,
But we know in our hearts that these will not last.
If we try our best to be simple and pure,
There's nothing our hopes and dreams cannot cure.
So, I don't know the value this is worth,
But lets all try to be happy and heal Mother Earth!
Happy New Year!
New Years Are a Chance for a Beginning
New years are a chance for a beginning
Even when there hasn't been an end.
Wheels turn in an interminable bend,
Yet, marked in one spot, seem to wobble spinning.
Each year we hope to do a little better
Although we know that really nothing's changed.
Reason thinks that everything's arranged,
So we must dream if we would fate unfetter.
New Year
This night
of all the nights
is the year's last.
All, all
the other nights
are gone, are past...
After
the evening, with
its fading light,
put the lid
on the hour
and close it tight.
Close up
your tinavy eye;
close up the day.
Bid the old year
Goodbye,
and come away.
Jean Kenward
New Year's Morning
Only a night from old to new!
Only a night, and so much wrought!
The Old Year's heart all weary grew,
But said: "The New Year rest has brought
The Old Year's hopes its heart laid down,
As in a grave; but trusting, said:"
The blossoms of the New Year's crown
Bloom from the ashes of the dead."
The Old Year's heart was full of greed;
With selfishness it longed and ached,
And cried: "I have not half I need.
My thirst is bitter and unslaked.
But to the New Year's generous hand
All gifts in plenty shall return;
True love it shall understand;
By all y failures it shall learn.
I have been reckless; it shall be
Quiet and calm and pure of life.
I was a slave; it shall go free,
And find sweet pace where I leave strife."
Only a night from old to new!
Never a night such changes brought.
The Old Year had its work to do;
No New Year miracles are wrought.
Always a night from old to new!
Night and the healing balm of sleep!
Each morn is New Year's morn come true,
Morn of a festival to keep.
All nights are sacnavy nights to make
Confession and resolve and prayer;
All days are sacnavy days to wake
New gladness in the sunny air.
Only a night from old to new;
Only a sleep from night to morn.
The new is but the old come true;
Each sunrise sees a new year born.
Helen Hunt Jackson
Welcome to the New Year
Hey, my lad, ho, my lad!
Here's a New Broom.
Heaven's your housetop
And Earth is your room.
Tuck up your shirtsleeves,
There's plenty to do-
Look at the muddle
That's waiting for you!
Dust in the corners
And dirt on the floor,
Cobwebs still clinging
To window and door.
Hey, my lad! o, my lad!
Nimble and keen-
Here's your New Broom, my lad!
See you sweep clean.
Eleanor Farjeon
Hours Mean No More or Less than Years
Hours mean no more or less than years.
A moment is a point with no dimension.
People count to undermine their fears,
Persuaded numbers lead to comprehension.
Yet time is an illusion of our motion,
No realer than the rising of the sun.
Each line we draw rests on a restless ocean,
Way, way beyond the scope of more than One.
Years do not begin and never end
Except for purposes of calibration.
A need to share our yearnings, friend to friend,
Requires just one point of celebration.
Taking from many source
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