The white wind cries, the cold bites deep;
The Death-crone's wail foretells despair.
All shrink and wither, the old can't sleep
As she devours another year.
Three turns of Sister Moon ago,
Grand Dame Earth was full and fair.
Springtime's bounty brought us to know
That life's great joys are ours to share.
But in the course of Nature's tack
Her pulse must slow and cool the clime.
Ah! Father Sun must turn his back
For a long, long, longer time.
Yet comes the morn when all's most bleak,
The land is stark; cloaked all in frost.
The Death-crone utters one last shriek
Then all falls still; we mourn those lost.
The breezes laugh, the warmth entreats;
The ancient sorceress casts off her spells.
All bud anew, the young run fleet
As She returns to the Archer's cell.
So Sing of Life and Earth and Sky,
Of Sun and Moon; of days long past.
As all Things live, so shall they die
And Nature's way is ours at last.
Then turn our minds from grievous toil,
To hopefulness for each new day.
Life's ring complete and around us coiled;
The New Year's Sun is born today.