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. 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. |