Best day of all days of the year,
    That was so kind, so good,
  Since thou dost leave me still the dear
    Old faith in brotherhood—­
  Best day since I, still striving here,
    May view the past with small regret,
  And, undisturbed by doubts or fear,
    Seeks paths that are untrod as yet.

S.E.  Kiser.

RING OUT, WILD BELLS

This great New Year’s piece belongs almost as well to every day in the year, since it expresses a social ideal of justice and happiness.

  Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
    The flying cloud, the frosty light: 
    The year is dying in the night;
  Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

  Ring out the old, ring in the new,
    Ring, happy bells, across the snow: 
    The year is going, let him go;
  Ring out the false, ring in the true.

  Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
    For those that here we see no more;
    Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
  Ring in redress to all mankind.

  Ring out a slowly dying cause,
    And ancient forms of party strife;
    Ring in the nobler modes of life,
  With sweeter manners, purer laws.

  Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
    The faithless coldness of the times;
    Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
  But ring the fuller minstrel in.

  Ring out false pride in place and blood,
    The civic slander and the spite;
    Ring in the love of truth and right,
  Ring in the common love of good.

  Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
    Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
    Ring out the thousand wars of old,
  Ring in the thousand years of peace.

  Ring in the valiant man and free,
    The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
    Ring out the darkness of the land,
  Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Alfred Tennyson.

[Illustration:  HENRY VAN DYKE]

WORK

The dog that dropped his bone to snap at its reflection in the water went dinnerless.  So do we often lose the substance—­the joy—­of our work by longing for tasks we think better fitted to our capabilities.

  Let me but do my work from day to day,
    In field or forest, at the desk or loom,
    In roaring market-place or tranquil room;
  Let me but find it in my heart to say,
  When vagrant wishes beckon me astray,
    “This is my work; my blessing, not my doom;
    Of all who live, I am the one by whom
  This work can best be done in the right way.”

  Then shall I see it not too great, nor small
    To suit my spirit and to prove my powers;
    Then shall I cheerful greet the laboring hours,
  And cheerful turn, when the long shadows fall
  At eventide, to play and love and rest,
  Because I know for me my work is best.