Gleaming softly, silvery-faint,
    Heralded by chanticleer,
    Merging from night’s shadowy taint,
    New day of the passing year!

    Born to bless or born to blight,
    Born for you and born for me,
    Leaving, ere it take its flight,
    Impress on eternity!

    ’Tis a gift from God’s own hand. 
    On its pure unsullied page
    Let us write at his command
    What will bless our pilgrimage.

    True repentance giveth joy
    To the angels in the sky. 
    What could be more blest employ
    Than to cheer the choirs on high?

    Deeds of patience, deeds of love,
    Banishing all hate and guile—­
    These will steer toward heaven above,
    These will make the angels smile.

    May this child of time unite
    Earth and heaven in blest accord,
    Heathen nations see the light
    From the cross of Christ our Lord.

    Coming is the glad daybreak,
    The prophetic jubilee;
    Sin will then all hearts forsake,
    Then will all the shadows flee.

GONE

    Upon time’s surging, billowy sea
    A ship now slowly disappears,
    With freight no human eye can see,
    But weighing just one hundred years.

    Their sighs, their tears, their weary moans,
    Their joy and pleasure, pomp and pride,
    Their angry and their gentle tones,
    Beneath its waves forever hide.

    Yes, sunk within oblivion’s waves,
    They’ll partly live in memory;
    To youth, who will their secrets crave,
    Mostly exist in history.

    Ah, what a truth steps in this strain—­
    They are not lost within time’s sea;
    Their words and actions live again,
    And blight or light eternity!

    A new ship comes within our view,
    Laden with dreams both sad and blest;
    To youth they’re tinged with roseate hue;
    To weary ones bring longed-for rest.

    And still the stream of life flows on,
    Laughing beneath the century new. 
    God’s promise gilds the horizon;
    Mercy shall reign; his word is true.

AWAKE!

All my ways are before thee.—­Psalm 119:168.

    Awake, O soul, awake! 
    Enter thy cell of thought,
    And there in calmness meditate
    On what God’s word has taught.

    There’s nought within thy scope,
    No influence thou hast sown,
    No gloomy doubt, no joyful hope,
    But unto him are known.

    Awake! but grovel not
    In ashes of despair,
    Christ’s precious blood can cleanse each spot;
    Cast on him every care.

    Before him are thy ways,
    But in his mercy free
    He further yet his love displays,
    And intercedes for thee.