JACKSON, Helen HUNT

Freedom

I will not follow you, my bird,

I will not follow you.

I would not breathe a word, my bird,

To bring thee here anew.

I love the free in thee, my bird,

The lure of freedom drew;

The light you fly toward, my bird,

I fly with thee unto.

And there we yet will meet, my bird,

Though far I go from you

Where in the light outpoured, my bird,

Are love and freedom too.


Tides

O patient shore, that canst not go to meet

Thy love, the restless sea, how comfortest

Thou all thy loneliness? Art thou at rest,

When, loosing his strong arms from round thy feet,

He turns away? Know’st thou, however sweet

That other shore may be, that to thy breast

He must return? And when in sterner test

He folds thee to a heart which does not beat,

Wraps thee in ice, and gives no smile, no kiss,

To break long wintry days, still dost thou miss

Naught from thy trust? Still, wait, unfaltering,

The higher, warmer waves which leap in spring?

O sweet, wise shore, to be so satisfied!

O heart, learn from the shore! Love has a tide!

New Year’s Morning

Only a night from old to new!

Only a night, and so much wrought!

The Old Year's heart all weary grew,

But said: "The New Year rest has brought."

The Old Year's hopes its heart laid down,

As in a grave; but, trusting, said:

"The blossoms of the New Year's crown

Bloom from the ashes of the dead."

The Old Year's heart was full of greed;

With selfishness it longed and ached,

And cried: "I have not half I need.

My thirst is bitter and unslaked.

But to the New Year's generous hand

All gifts in plenty shall return;

True love it shall understand;

By all my failures it shall learn.

I have been reckless; it shall be

Quiet and calm and pure of life.

I was a slave; it shall go free,

And find sweet peace where I leave strife."

Only a night from old to new!

Never a night such changes brought.

The Old Year had its work to do;

No New Year miracles are wrought.

Always a night from old to new!

Night and the healing balm of sleep!

Each morn is New Year's morn come true,

Morn of a festival to keep.

All nights are sacred nights to make

Confession and resolve and prayer;

All days are sacred days to wake

New gladness in the sunny air.

Only a night from old to new;

Only a sleep from night to morn.

The new is but the old come true;

Each sunrise sees a new year born.