A flower unblown;

A tree with fruit unharvested;

A path untrode; A house  whose rooms lack yet the hearts' divine perfume;

A landscape whose wide border lies in silent shade beneath silent skies; 

A wonderous fountain yet unsealed;

A casket with its gifts concealed;

This is the year that for you awaits,

beyond tomorrow's mystic gates.

To leave the old with a burst of song,

to recall the right and forgive the wrong,

to forget the thing that binds you fast to regret in vain, that is strong;

is a way to a happy life that is long.