Jan first 1860 Yes the old year has passed. Past are all its joys and sorrows, past its advantages, its golden opportunities and as we see its cold and hory [sic] form vanishing mid the dim shadows of the past. And see then a hand of the coming years beckoning us on, telling of the joys in store and hiding all that pleases not. And oh may we find few hidden thorns, and may we make the flowers that blossom in the very bright flowers undimmed by tears of regret. May the new year (?) a brighter (?) than the old. May it tell us we have less blots on the journal of life, and when past, may it tell us that this year’s (?) is better than the past.