Nor die a thousand deaths in fearing one;
If we but cheerful be,
Sorrow and care will flee,
And, rose-like, Time will fragrance leave when gone.
Then hail to thee, New Year,
In thine allotted sphere!
With song and welcome we our voices raise;
And may thy deeds so shine
That, through all coming time,
Millions shall, rising, join to hymn thy praise