Gazing over the horizon of past times
Of both life’s great and minor symphonies
Demanding to fashion coming years to our designs
We fail in maintaining our own dignities.
We step forth into coming ages in various degrees.
A few in the arms of simplicity; hallowed halls,
Kempt ones ready to end and start years in peace
Ever realistic, none of them to the ways of men are thrall.
But what of those who end and begin theirs
In the same state of intoxication, clouded in smoke,
Blinding smoke that makes them unaware
Of the coming years? It only chokes.
All men will enter New Years with young hopes
Many with grand dreams thinking themselves clever
Every new year this we attempt
Nay, but every day we fail to endeavour
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