New Year's Day

When with clanging and with ringing          Comes the year's initial day,     I can feel the rhythmic swinging          Of the world upon its way;     And though Right still wears a fetter,          And though Justice still is blind,     Time's beyond is always better          Than the paths he leaves behind.     In our eons of existence,          As we circle through the night,     We annihilate the distance          'Twixt the darkness and the light.     From beginnings crude and lowly,          Round and round our souls have trod     Through the circles, winding slowly          Up to knowledge and to God.     With each century departed          Some old evil found a tomb,     Some old truth was newly started          In propitious soil to bloom.     With each epoch some condition          That has handicapped the race     (Worn-out creed or superstition)          Unto knowledge yields its place.     Though in folly and in blindness          And in sorrow still we grope,     Yet in man's increasing kindness          Lies the world's stupendous hope;     For our darkest hour of errors          Is as radiant as the dawn,     Set beside the awful terrors          Of the ages that have gone.     And above the sad world's sobbing,          And the strife of clan with clan,     I can hear the mighty throbbing          Of the heart of God in man;     And a voice chants through the chiming          Of the bells, and seems to say,     We are climbing, we are climbing,          As we circle on our way.