I wish you a happy New Year,
O, faithful old mother of me!
May it come with a smile, not a tear,
Where Sydney looks out on the sea—
On the wings of some wind, blowing free,
Where the heads of Port Jackson rise sheer—
From the heart in my breast
And the heart of the West
I wish you a happy New Year!
While the hands of Luck’s jenny-wheel spin
And Fortune is ever a-fret,
From the voices of homeland and kin,
Come the clearest of messages yet:
And the nose of my dinghy is set
For the time the gods give me a win!
And I waft you a line,
Dear old mother of mine!
While the hands of Luck’s jenny-wheel spin.
But, though Fortune be good or be ill!
Though the guerdon be ashes or gold!
When the crushing has gone to the mill
And the tale of life’s effort is told,
Though the world be grown never so cold
There’s a heart that will beat for me still!
And a prayer to fend,
And a trust without end,
And an old hand to cancel the bill.
So I wish you a happy New Year,
O, well-loved old mother of me!
May it come with no trace of a tear
When it trips from Eternity’s sea!
Oh, for mine! and for thine! and for thee!
With a love that is deep and sincere,
From the heart in my breast,
In the heart of the West,
I wish you “A Happy New Year!”