A New Heart For A New Year,

Black Are The Brooding Clouds And Troubled The Deep Waters, When The Sea Of Thought, First Heaving From A Calm, Gives Up Its Dead

A Wonderful Fact To Reflect Upon, That Every Human Creature Is Constituted To Be That Profound Secret And Mystery To Every Other.

The Sun Himself Is Weak When He First Rises, And Gathers Strength And Courage As The Day Gets On.

And I Am Bored To Death With It. Bored To Death With This Place, Bored To Death With My Life, Bored To Death With Myself.

But The Moon Came Slowly Up In All Her Gentle Glory, And The Stars Looked Out, And Through The Small Compass Of The Grated Window, As Through The Narrow Crevice Of One Good Deed In A Murky Life Of Guilt, The Face Of Heaven Shone Bright And Merciful. He Raised His Head; Gazed Upward At The Quiet Sky, Which Seemed To Smile Upon The Earth In Sadness, As If The Night, More Thoughtful Than The Day, Looked Down In Sorrow On The Sufferings And Evil Deeds Of Men; And Felt Its Peace Sink Deep Into His Heart.