With the cold and dark days of December well advanced and Christmas looming around the corner, I start to think about the coming year. The poem, Ring Out, Wild Bells by Alfred Lord Tennyson sticks in my mind. I know it best as a hymn, and in the version I’m familiar with, it is sung and played in a minor key. The song is chilling with its low, haunting melody perfectly juxtaposed with the message. The first two stanzas read:
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky.
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and him die.
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
For me, 2022 has been a year of change for our family and farming operation. My husband started a new job, we sold our home and the first “big farm” we bought, relocated to my family operation and moved into my parent’s home while we built a house. Then, in the spring, I started my first off-the-farm job in nearly six years. The changes and the reasons behind them are good but still hard. More than in previous years, 2022 feels like the year for the message of Ring Out, Wild Bells. “The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false and ring in the true.”
Earlier this week, my cousin asked on Facebook for her friends to share in the comments one thing they are proud of from 2022. I browsed through the comments, interested in the proud moments. People shared about running marathons, taking care of aging parents, finishing graduate school, giving birth, losing weight, buying homes and taking new jobs. I thought about sharing, and while a lot happened this year, some of it worthy of pride, it all feels too raw and fresh. For me, looking back on 2022 will mean looking forward to 2023.
For my readers, best wishes for the coming year if 2022 was a “looking forward” year. Or my heartiest congratulations if 2022 is a “looking back” year. And because I believe the poem is worth sharing and its message pertinent, here is the remainder of Ring Out, Wild Bells by Alfred Lord Tennyson. Happy Holidays.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind
For those that are here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
