I want to close the old year, Lord--
All finished like a book;
Turn eyes from smudged and dog-eared page,
Bar any backward look.
There are some scores I marked to pay--
Some large--and some are small;
The grief they caused--I'm sorry, now,
Forgive me for them all.
Then place a new book in my hand,
New pages I can read;
And give me from it deeds to do,
And thoughts of other's need.
And when its pages I must close,
Pray let there be no grief;
But let my hands turn happily
The new book's last clean leaf.
~Clara Hood Rugel
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