NEW YEAR'S EVE.

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God grant through coming years and days
Our beating hearts may be
The harps that celebrate His praise
Who loves eternally!
No ache can be without relief
When Love Himself draws near;
No cup can empty stand, no grief
Embitter God's New Year.
Time's footsteps quickly die away,
Soon emptied is his glass;
We wait for an oncoming Day
Which nevermore shall pass.
Old hopes revive, new hopes are born,
The coming months to cheer;
And phantom-fears and griefs outworn
Die with the dying year.
Oh, all the years and all the days
Our waiting hearts shall be
Harps tremulous with His dear praise
Whose is Eternity!

S. Barnabas': December 31, 1883.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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