_Each New Year day Time cuts the thread
That binds us to the vanished past.
Its tears, and cares, and pangs are fled.
Its woes are gone, its troubles dead,
And we are free at last.
It is the road ahead we scan
Whene’er the year is new.
Again we gird our hearts, and plan
For better days. We hope again
In things secure and true.
Thanks for the hand that steals away
The cares of moments sped.
Thanks for the years we leave today,
But more for all that seems to say:
“’Tis better on ahead_.”