Welcome to 2024!

Hello everyone – 

Welcome to 2024, another year of Quotemail! In this edition, we celebrate the turning of the calendar page with some classic poems about the New Year and January.

 

“I Pack My Trunk”

By Amos Russel Wells

What shall I pack up to carry
From the old year to the new?
I'll leave out the frets that harry,
Thoughts unjust and doubts untrue.

Angry words—ah, how I rue them!
Selfish deeds and choices blind—
Any one is welcome to them!
I shall leave them all behind.

Plans? the trunk would need be double.
Hopes? they'd burst the stoutest lid.
Sharp ambitions? last year's stubble!
Take them, old year! Keep them hid!

All my fears shall be forsaken,
All my failures manifold;
Nothing gloomy shall be taken
To the new year from the old.

But I'll pack the sweet remembrance
Of dear friendship's least delight;
All my jokes—I'll carry them hence;
All my store of fancies bright;

My contentment—would 'twere greater!
All the courage I possess;
All my trust—there's not much weight there!
All my faith or more or less;

All my tasks! I'll not abandon
One of these, my pride, my health;
Every trivial or grand one
Is a noble mine of wealth.

And I'll pack my choicest treasure,
Smiles I've seen, and praises heard,
Memories of unselfish pleasure,
Cheery looks, the kindly word.

Ah, my riches silence cavil!
To my rags I bid adieu!
Like a Croesus I shall travel
From the old year to the new.

 

“New-Year's Morning”

By Lydia Sigourney

Wake, dear ones, 'tis the New-Year's morn,
And many a wish for you is born,
And many a prayer, of spirit true
Breaks from paternal lips for you.

No more the vales with daisies glow,
The violets sleep, beneath the snow,
The rose her radiant robes doth fold
And hides her buds from winter's cold.

But Spring, with gentle smile shall call
Up from their beds, those slumberers all
Fresh verdure o'er your path shall swell,
The brook its tuneful story tell,
And graceful flowers, with varied bloom,
Again your garden's bound perfume.

Ye are our buds; and in your breast
The promise of our hope doth rest.

When knowledge, like the breath of Spring,
Shall wake your minds to blossoming,
May their unfolding germs disclose,
More than the fragrance of the rose,
More than the brightness of the stream
That through green shades, with sparkling gleam
In peace and purity doth glide
On to the Ocean's mighty tide.

The country too, which gave you birth,
That freest, happiest clime on earth,
To all, to each, with fervor cries,
"Oh for my sake, be good, be wise,
Seek knowledge, and with studious pain,
Resolve, her priceless gold to gain.

Shun the strong cup, whose poisonous tide
To ruin's dark abyss, doth guide,
And with the sons of virtue stand,
The bulwark of your native land.

Me would you serve? This day begin
The fear of God, the dread of sin;
Love, for instruction's watchful care,
The patient task, the nightly prayer;
So shall you glitter as a gem,
Bound in my brightest diadem."

 

“A Calendar of Sonnets: January”

By Helen Hunt Jackson

O Winter! Frozen pulse and heart of fire,

What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn

Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn

Of death! Far sooner in Midsummer tire

The streams than under ice. June could not hire

Her roses to forego the strength they learn

In sleeping on thy breast. No fires can burn

The bridges thou dost lay where men desire

In vain to build. O Heart, when Love’s Sun goes

To northward, and the sounds of singing cease,

Keep warm by inner fires, and rest in peace.

Sleep on content, as sleeps the patient rose.

Walk boldly on the white untrodden snows,

The Winter is the Winter’s own release.

 

The title page to Shakespeare’s comedy, Twelfth Night, which refers to the twelfth night of Christmas – January 5 – today! (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

Happy Mew Year! 😊

 

Rob