Featured Poem: Old and New Year Ditties by Christina Rossetti

If it's not too late to say it, we'd like to wish a very Happy New Year to all of our Readers. After the fun and frivolity of the Christmas season, January can leave us feeling slightly raw and looking for things to anticipate. On the other hand, the arrival of a New Year also gives the opportunity for a fresh start and clean slate - perhaps not so many resolutions that may inevitably end up being broken but instead a chance to take a different outlook.

However you have entered 2015, we can only hope what's ahead - 'be it good or ill', as Christina Rossetti realistically attests to - will be kind to you as possible, and we certainly look forward to bringing you more poetry across the months to accompany your every mood.

Old and New Year Ditties

New Year met me somewhat sad:
Old Year leaves me tired,
Stripped of favourite things I had
Baulked of much desired:
Yet farther on my road to-day
God willing, farther on my way.

New Year coming on apace
What have you to give me?
Bring you scathe, or bring you grace,
Face me with an honest face;
You shall not deceive me:
Be it good or ill, be it what you will,
It needs shall help me on my road,
My rugged way to heaven, please God.

Watch with me, men, women, and children dear,
You whom I love, for whom I hope and fear,
Watch with me this last vigil of the year.
Some hug their business, some their pleasure-scheme;
Some seize the vacant hour to sleep or dream;
Heart locked in heart some kneel and watch apart.

Watch with me blessèd spirits, who delight
All through the holy night to walk in white,
Or take your ease after the long-drawn fight.
I know not if they watch with me: I know
They count this eve of resurrection slow,
And cry, “How long?” with urgent utterance strong.

Watch with me Jesus, in my loneliness:
Though others say me nay, yet say Thou yes;
Though others pass me by, stop Thou to bless.
Yea, Thou dost stop with me this vigil night;
To-night of pain, to-morrow of delight:
I, Love, am Thine; Thou, Lord my God, art mine.

Passing away, saith the World, passing away:
Chances, beauty and youth sapped day by day:
Thy life never continueth in one stay.
Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey
That hath won neither laurel nor bay?
I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May:
Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay
On my bosom for aye.
Then I answered: Yea.

Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away:
With its burden of fear and hope, of labour and play;
Hearken what the past doth witness and say:
Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array,
A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay.
At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day
Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay:
Watch thou and pray.
Then I answered: Yea.

Passing away, saith my God, passing away:
Winter passeth after the long delay:
New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray,
Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven’s May.
Though I tarry wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray:
Arise, come away, night is past and lo it is day,
My love, My sister, My spouse, thou shalt hear Me say.
Then I answered: Yea.

Christina Rossetti

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If you're looking for more literature to soothe and shelter you this January, our first Short Course for Serious Readers of 2015 is taking place at Calderstones Mansion House on Saturday 31st January. Join us to discover some refuge through the form of a classic and eclectic selection of texts, perfect to relieve the stresses and strains of a post-festive burnout.

For more information, please see our website or contact Course Coordinator Jenny Kelly: jenniferkelly@thereader.org.uk/ 0151 729 2200.