THE NEW YEAR
Across the heath the day-gleam creeps,The landscape glows with radiance fairAbove the hill the sun-god peeps,And flings the points of glory there.In bosky dell and upland glade,Dame Nature sets her signet bright—Where rippling rill and mossy fenFlash glistening in the glorious light.Now comes the bride, a sylvan sprite,Bedecked in robes of spotless hue;Reluctant stands, in sweet affright,Aglisten with the morning dew;Then speeds away, in merry chaseTo run the course so well begun;God grant her strength and days of grace,To win the race ere set of sun.W. O. Thomas.
Across the heath the day-gleam creeps,The landscape glows with radiance fairAbove the hill the sun-god peeps,And flings the points of glory there.In bosky dell and upland glade,Dame Nature sets her signet bright—Where rippling rill and mossy fenFlash glistening in the glorious light.Now comes the bride, a sylvan sprite,Bedecked in robes of spotless hue;Reluctant stands, in sweet affright,Aglisten with the morning dew;Then speeds away, in merry chaseTo run the course so well begun;God grant her strength and days of grace,To win the race ere set of sun.W. O. Thomas.
Across the heath the day-gleam creeps,The landscape glows with radiance fairAbove the hill the sun-god peeps,And flings the points of glory there.In bosky dell and upland glade,Dame Nature sets her signet bright—Where rippling rill and mossy fenFlash glistening in the glorious light.
Across the heath the day-gleam creeps,
The landscape glows with radiance fair
Above the hill the sun-god peeps,
And flings the points of glory there.
In bosky dell and upland glade,
Dame Nature sets her signet bright—
Where rippling rill and mossy fen
Flash glistening in the glorious light.
Now comes the bride, a sylvan sprite,Bedecked in robes of spotless hue;Reluctant stands, in sweet affright,Aglisten with the morning dew;Then speeds away, in merry chaseTo run the course so well begun;God grant her strength and days of grace,To win the race ere set of sun.
Now comes the bride, a sylvan sprite,
Bedecked in robes of spotless hue;
Reluctant stands, in sweet affright,
Aglisten with the morning dew;
Then speeds away, in merry chase
To run the course so well begun;
God grant her strength and days of grace,
To win the race ere set of sun.
W. O. Thomas.
W. O. Thomas.