Hour by Hour by George Klingle

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 21, 1909

Hour by Hour

By George Klingle

ONE single day Is not much to look upon. There is some way Of passing hours of such a limit. We can face A single day; but place Too many days before sad eyes,— Too many days for smothered sighs,— And we lose heart, Just at the start.

Years really are not long, nor lives,— The longest which survives; And yet to look across A future we must tread, bowed by a sense of loss, Bearing some burden weighing down so low That we can scarcely go One step ahead,—this is so hard, So stern a view to face, unstarred, Untouched by light, so masked with dread;

If we would take a step ahead, Be brave and keep The feet quite steady, feel the breath of life Sweep over on our face again, We must not look across,—looking in vain,— But downward to the next close step, And up. Eyes that have wept Must look a little way,—not far.

God broke the years to hours and days, That hour by hour And day by day Just going on a little way, We might be able all along To keep quite strong.

Should all the weights of life Be laid across our shoulders, and the future, rife With woe and struggle, meet us face to face At just one place, We could not go; Our feet would stop; and so God lays a little on us every day; And never, I believe, on all the way Will burdens bear so deep, Or pathways lie so steep, But we can go, if by God's power We only bear the burden of the hour. — George Klingle.