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Poems About New Beginnings

Table of Contents

  1. The Land of Beginning Again by Louisa Fletcher Tarkington
  2. Start Anew by E. F. Hayward
  3. The Stature of Zacchaeus by Amos Russell Wells
  4. The First Dandelion by Walt Whitman
  5. A Spring Song by Mathilde Blind
  6. End of March by Annette Wynne
  7. Give Me thine heart! by J. R. Eastwood
  8. Hope On, Hope Ever by Peter Burn

  1. The Land of Beginning Again

    by Louisa Fletcher Tarkington

    I wish there were some wonderful place
    Called the Land of Beginning Again,
    Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches,
    And all our poor, selfish griefs
    Could be dropped, like a shabby old coat, at the door,
    And never put on again.

    I wish we could come on it all unaware,
    Like the hunter who finds a lost trail;
    And I wish that the one whom our blindness had done
    The greatest injustice of all
    Could be at the gate like the old friend that waits
    For the comrade he's gladdest to hail.

    We would find the things we intended to do,
    But forgot and remembered too late—
    Little praises unspoken, little promises broken,
    And all of the thousand and one
    Little duties neglected that might have perfected
    The days of one less fortunate.

    It wouldn't be possible not to be kind.
    In the Land of Beginning Again;
    And the ones we misjudged and the ones whom we grudged
    Their moments of victory here,
    Would find the grasp of our loving handclasp
    More than penitent lips could explain.

    For what had been hardest we'd know had been best,
    And what had seemed loss would be gain,
    For there isn't a sting that will not take wing
    When we've faced it and laughed it away;
    And I think that the laughter is most what we're after,
    In the Land of Beginning Again.

    So I wish that there were some wonderful place
    Called the Land of Beginning Again,
    Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches,
    And all our poor, selfish griefs
    Could be dropped, like a ragged old coat, at the door,
    And never put on again.

  2. Start Anew

    by E. F. Hayward

    If you have a grouch, and things look blue,
    You think the "world" has it in for you,
    You're out of work, and the rent 'most due,
    Your chances of winning, seem but few,
    The chums you had, bade a sad adieu,
    Then went their way, for they were not true,
    Your last red cent from the bank you drew,
    And for provisions the same you blew,
    For getting more you haven't a clue;
    You worry and fret, and fuss and stew,
    And by your fretting, more troubles brew;
    Your lucky star seems hidden from view,
    And old hard luck, sticks to you like glue,
    Boasted true-blue friends have lost their hue,
    Not one volunteers to help you through,
    And your last fond hope took wing and flew;
    There's but one thing left for you to do—
    Bury your troubles, and start anew.

  3. The Stature of Zacchaeus

    by Amos Russell Wells

    Zacchaeus struggled with the crowd;
    A little man was he.
    "Vermin!" he muttered half aloud,
    "I'll make them honor me.
    Ah, when the taxes next are due,
    I'll tower as is meet;
    This beggarly, ill-mannered crew
    Shall cower at my feet."

    Zacchaeus climbed the sycomore
    (He was a little man),
    And as he looked the rabble o'er
    He chuckled at the plan.
    "I get the thing I want," he said,
    "And that is to be tall.
    They think me short but by a head
    I rise above them all."

    "Zacchaeus, come! dine with you,"
    The famous Rabbi cried.
    Zacchaeus tumbled into view
    A giant in his pride.
    He strutted mightily before
    That silly, gaping throng;
    You'd think him six feet high or more,
    To see him stride along.

    Zacchaeus listened to the Lord,
    And as he listened, feared;
    How was his life a thing abhorred
    When that pure Life appeared!
    Down to a dwarf he shrank away
    In sorrow and in shame.
    He owned his sins that very day,
    And bore the heavy blame.

    But as he rose before the crowd,
    (A little man, alack!)
    Confessed his guilt and cried aloud
    And gave his plunder back,
    I think he stood a giant then
    As angels truly scan,
    And no one ever thought again
    He was a little man.

  4. The First Dandelion

    by Walt Whitman

    Simple and fresh and fair from winter's close emerging,
    As if no artifice of fashion, business, politics, had ever been,
    Forth from its sunny nook of shelter'd grass—innocent, golden, calm as the dawn,
    The spring's first dandelion shows its trustful face.

  5. A Spring Song

    by Mathilde Blind

    Dark sod pierced by flames of flowers,
    Dead wood freshly quickening,
    Bright skies dusked with sudden showers,
    Lit by rainbows on the wing.

    Cuckoo calls and young lambs' bleating
    Nimble airs which coyly bring
    Little gusts of tender greeting
    From shy nooks where violets cling.

    Half-fledged buds and birds and vernal
    Fields of grass dew-glistening;
    Evanescent life's eternal
    Resurrection, bridal Spring!

  6. End of March

    by Annette Wynne

    What does the white world know
    Of flowers eager to grow
    Under the snow?
    Do the brown limbs care
    As they swing in the crisp clear air?

    But O, little seed, you know,
    Lying patiently so—
    Head underground,
    Only wait—the call will go round,
    You'll know the sound.
    And O, the snow must go,
    For you, little seed, are waiting to grow!

    O, the joy to lift the head
    Straight above the dark brown bed,
    O, the joy to feel the tread
    Of spring with skipping bare brave feet,
    Down the warm, wet village street.

    Ah, then the brown branches care
    And try to touch her hair;
    Streaming out in the new warm air,
    And O, the sky is glad, and every brook and glen
    For then,
    The world begins all over again!

  7. Give Me thine heart!

    by J. R. Eastwood

    "Give Me thine heart!" When life was young
    That summons gently came,
    With Jesus in the songs I sung
    The sweetest name.

    And God still called. The endless day
    Was in its early noon,
    With hours that beckoned far away;
    It was too soon.

    O love Divine! the grief, the tears,
    The Life laid down for me,
    And my return of sinful years,
    Estranged from Thee!

    O late repentance! I resign
    What Thou hast made Thine own,
    And all my heart's best love is Thine,
    And Thine alone!

  8. Hope On, Hope Ever

    by Peter Burn

    Sow afresh! be not dishearten'd,
    Though thy works have suffered blight—
    Though the glorious sky has darken'd,
    When it look'd most fair and bright:
    Sow afresh! be up and doing!
    Let the earth receive the grain!
    Thou shalt have the joy of knowing,
    Life has not been spent in vain.

    Start afresh, desponding brother!
    Enter life's eventful field!
    Haply this, thy new endeavour,
    May a plenteous harvest yield:
    Start afresh! all fears forsaking!
    Soon the clouds will disappear;
    Form with prayer each undertaking,
    Then thy Father's smile will cheer.

    Labour on, still praying, hoping,
    Working out some honest plan,
    Through the darkness onward groping,—
    Such must be the life of man:
    Battling ever with obstruction,
    Pressing onward to the goal,
    Are the means to gain distinction,
    And bespeak a noble soul.

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