Another year has passed us, while the earth
Grew green and grey again beneath our eyes,
And now once more, the snowy mantle lies
Across her breast, to celebrate thy birth.
Dearest, with solemn joy, not noisy mirth,
I hail again thy natal sun arise,
And my thanksgiving to the generous skies,
I wing upon this song of little worth.
God's one great blessing to my weary lot!
Ah, what had been this train of sombre days--
This sorry remnant of a dying blaze--
Had gracious Heaven, by any chance, forgot
To make this day my day of boundless praise,
If I were here alone, and thou wert not?