The poet realises that if he can learn to value the ordinary, which is plentiful, he will have everything he needs: ‘Won’t we be rich, my love and I’. Kavanagh spent most of his life practically penniless (he even had to walk 60 miles to visit Dublin as a young man, as he had little money for transport), so the use of the adjective ‘rich’ is particularly notable. The speaker hopes that he can retain this sense of joy and innocence, and ‘not ask for reason’s payment’ – not over-analyse everything, such as the sad way hedgerows can appear to sag: ‘The why of heart-breaking strangeness in dreeping hedges.’ Kavanagh was well- known to take great offence at any perceived slights. When he famously sued The Leader with dozens of suspects, which tortured him mentally, and took away his peace of mind. The speaker hopes to stop reading too much into everything; he will no longer ‘analyse God’s breath in common statement.’
The words ‘repentance’ and ‘penance’ both have the same root, the Latin verb ‘paenitere’ which means ‘to be sorry’. In the third last line, Kavanagh discards ‘the clay-minted wages’, that is, the wages of sin, which he is sorry he ever paid. These sins are ‘pleasure, knowledge and the conscious hour’, which are very much from an old Catholic ethos (indeed, most modern Catholics would not consider these three things sins at all). As a reward for his penance and suffering, the speaker knows he will receive God’s blessing again, which to him is the return to childhood innocence: ‘And Christ comes with a In other words, a new year and a fresh start.