Your ShelfYour Projects

The Home Circle

13%

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jan 12, 1882

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 8, No. 2.

Read the full edition

The Home Circle.

THE YEARS ARE PASSING BY.

THE years are passing by! We watch, as through an open door. Their passage through time's corridor; Each shadow in its falling, slopes Across the grave of buried hopes; The pulse of being slower beats Through winter's snow, thro' summer's heats. And faith, and hope, and love grow cold As we grow old—as we grow old! The years are passing by!
The years are passing by! Time's record hath such pages blurred With hasty deed, with bitter word; Such sad mistakes mark all life's years; We scarce can read, because of tears; We see dead faces on the walls, We hear dead voices in the halls, We touch some hands on bended knee, We kiss some lips we cannot see— The years are passing by!
The years are passing by! They carry with them as they go, The rain, the sunshine and the snow; They leave behind the drift of days Wherein each soul some penance pays; Some hopes we have, but not our own, Some loves we cherish, not alone; And there are leaves and faded flowers That tell sad tales in memory's hours. The years are passing by!
The years are passing by! The seal of silence on our lips We closer press. Time's umbra dips To deeper darkness down the lane Through which we walk to hide our pain. We smile and smile as one who bears A life untouched by grief or cares, But when in solitude we wait, We bow our head at sorrow's gate. The years are passing by!
The years are passing by! Another joins the passing band! Oh, is there not some other land Where compensation for all ills The measure of life's being fills? We wait the answer, but in vain, The shadow falls, a sense of pain Rests on us wheresoe'er we go, And whispers of the sod and snow. The years are passing by!
The years are passing by! The sun dispels the winter's chill; The snow is gone from vale and hill. We wait the answer—not in vain; God's word brings light—relieves the pain. There is a land, a beauteous home, Where snow and chill shall never come. For death is now a vanquished foe, And faith and hope rejoice to know The years are passing by!