It's no nonsense if you rang out THE OLD
With lots of feasting, funning and fanfaring,
In fury of mind if you screw'd stranglehold
Round the neck of fail'd year till its dying.
No joke, if now on carcas of the Dead,
You swear the new will be famously yours,
For in our will is our Lady Luck made
As builds up firmly a vanquishing force.
Alas, die away all on this very Day--
Our oath, our spright..., like surge of smoke after blast,
As daily fiends of own do squarely flay
Our life and future through the year does last.
Let our gifted life deliver its due,
With will to change us, do ring in THE NEW.
-- N. P. SAMAL
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