I would no more, as I have done,
Consider what the year will bring
But take the seasons one by one;
For, all in all, the heaviest thing
—Excepting only no more hope—
Is hope returning year on year:
Let me not give it now the scope
Of what I might do, for I fear
    That if it cast off heaviness,
    This is my burden, none the less.

 

from The New Year’s Burden
by Catherine Davis