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THE NEW YEAR

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jan 9, 1901

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 27, No. 2.

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THE NEW YEAR.

By Floyd D. Raze

How many hearts will mourn to know thou'rt here, New year! To some thou dost appear a threatening cloud— Thy presence usherest in a funeral shroud. How many wait beside some dear one's bed, To hear at midnight thy low whisper, “Dead”!
How slow the hours will drag till thou art here, New year! All thru the old year's last and ling'ring night, How many tear-dimmed eyes will watch the flight Of time! And as the coming days roll on, Each wrings a tear in memory of the gone.
Yet many hearts will joy to know thou'rt here, New year. To some thou dost appear a joyous time; Thy presence usherest in a wedding chime. How many hearts await expectantly The hour that brings so much in bringing thee!
The poor await thee, glad to know thou'rt here, New year. Thou bringest them a hope of better time; Their destiny seems ringing in thy chime. The old is past, and with renewing strength In happiness their lot seems cast at length.
Would God all hearts with joy might greet thee here, New year! Would that the tearful eye and aching heart Might at thy coming suddenly depart, And hope on every tongue the watchword be, While we wait, O coming year, for thee!
FLOYD D. RAZE.