DECEMBER 31.
Another year!
What is the story by the twelve-month told?
What treasure doth its memory enfold,—
Base coin, or gold?
Sternly hath it hard lessons taught,
Hath it new cares, new joys, new burdens brought?
Few smiles, and many a tear?
Another year!
What good and perfect gifts have gently come—
Knowing not whence, we have been blind and dumb!
We ate the crumb
Without the sparrow’s faith, but still,
Father of Lights, Thou shinest on, and will,
Thy frightened birds to cheer.
Another year!
The sunlight pours its blessings as of old,
Into the lap of each dear day,—its gold,
Its wealth untold.
As lessons new and sweet we gain,
Still hoping to the highest to attain,
We trust, and never fear.
Another year!
But to the brave and true, lo, time is not!
A thousand years are as a day, forgot
The hardest lot,
To those who walk beside their God,
Loving the path His patient feet have trod,
Knowing that He is near.