New-Year's Eve

As when at twelve o'clock Strong January opes the gates of Life And we that were so cabined and so dark Within the round tower of the rounded year Feel the far Spring blown in on us and look Straight to the primroses, and with the swallow Skim thro' the dawns of daffodils and up To bluebell skies, and from the bluebell skies, Like a wild hawk upon a flight of doves, Swoop upon June and Paradise, and on Beyond the bounds of Eden to an Earth Boss'd with great purples of new-clustered wine Betwixt the tented harvests red and gold, And so into a cloud, and know no more--