A PSALM OF THE YEARS by H. L. Hastings

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 2, 1879

A PSALM OF THE YEARS.

By H. L. Hastings

God of all ages, from whose constant hand Stream the swift years, like grains of glittering sand, Thee we adore, our Father, Saviour, Friend, Thee would we worship, ages without end.

Motes in the blaze of an unsetting Sun, Swift as the light our earthly course is run;— Atoms in space, yet close to thee we stand, Sheltered, beloved, fast hidden in thy hand.

Still hold thou us, as we adoring gaze On all the glory of thy works and ways; And stay our hearts if, overcast with gloom, We walk through pains and sorrows to the tomb.

Safe in thy love we tread the solemn shore Where beat the ages with unceasing roar; Knowing that God unseen is yet our friend; Loving his own, he loves them to the end.

Steady as stars which in their courses roll, So bound to thee be every trusting soul;— Then, though stars fade, and suns dissolve in air, The life unending of our God we share.

Thanks be to God for years of blessing given, For earth's rich bounties, and the gifts of heaven, Countless the favors that our paths surround— Thou hast each year with grace and goodness crowned.

Still thy long-suffering doth the sinful spare; Still waits to see the fruitless fig-tree bear; Pleads with the sinful, bids the weary come, Yearns for the lost, and holds wrath's thunders dumb.

Lo, nations, sunk in sin and darkness long, Writhe in their pain with dread contortions strong, Swift falls the stroke from the avenging hand, Bloodshed and slaughter drench the guilty land.

Yet locked in sleep, besotted, clothed with shame, Drunken and impious, men despise thy name; Fear not the storms that gather overhead, Heed not the woes that come with earthquake tread.

Yet let not men, presuming on thy grace, Live on in sin, and mock thee to thy face; To such the deluge once in thunder spoke; O'er such the fiery storm on Sodom broke.

And so at last when guilt's dark cup o'erflows, On all the godless comes the day of woes; When men, unthinking, dream in peace secure, Destruction cometh, sudden, swift, and sure.

But better hopes the hearts of those inspire Who have for refuge fled from vengeance dire; Hidden within the cleft, eternal Rock, They dread no storm, they fear no tempest's shock.

To them, when storms of sin and wrath shall cease, Wide swing the gates of righteousness and peace;— Those holy gates, where angels waiting stand, To greet them as they reach the better land.

All hail, fair City, hail, celestial home, Whither the ransomed shall with singing come! As joys eternal crown them on their way To greet the glory of a nightless day.

Through time's dark night a holy radiance glows; The star that over Bethlehem's plain arose Shines o'er us now, and casts its beams afar; Herald of day! the bright and morning Star!

Swift may that Star ascend the eastern sky, Beaming with hope to each worn watcher's eye,— Shoot to earth's farthest realms its silver ray, Then blend its brightness with the perfect day.

O day of hope! for thee in solemn tones Rise loud and long the whole creation's groans; Earth, shook with anguish, travails to be free, Saints join the cry for glorious liberty.

Still wait we through each weary, servile year The joyful trump of jubilee to hear, When captive exiles shall in peace come home And sing, “The year of thy redeemed is come.”

Till then, hearts longing wait, with anguish dumb— Their one great burden, “Lord, thy kingdom come! Bring in creation's new and better birth, As 'tis in Heaven, thy will be done on earth.”

—H. L. Hastings.