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A HAPPY NEW YEAR

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jan 1, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 9.

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A HAPPY NEW YEAR.

By Hezekiah Butterworth

I SOMETIMES feel the thread of life is slender, And soon with me the labor will be wrought; Then grows my heart to other hearts more tender. The time, the time is short.
A shepherd's tent of reeds and flowers decaying, That night winds soon will crumble into naught, So seems my life, for some rude blasts delaying. The time, the time is short.
Up, up, my soul, the long-spent time redeeming; Sow thou the seeds of better deed and thought; Light other lamps while yet thy light is beaming. The time, the time is short.
Think of the good thou might'st have done when brightly The suns to thee life's choicest seasons brought, Hours lost to God in pleasures passing lightly. The time, the time is short.
Think of the drooping eyes that might have lifted To see the good that heaven to thee hath taught; The unhelped wrecks that past life's bark have drifted. The time, the time is short.
Think of the feet that fall by misdirection, Of noblest souls to loss and ruin brought, Because their lives are barren of affection. The time, the time is short.
The time is short. Then be thy heart a brother's To every heart that needs thy help in aught; Soon thou may'st need the sympathy of others. The time, the time is short.
If thou hast friends, give them thy best endeavor, Thy warmest impulse, and thy purest thought, Keeping in mind, in word and action ever, The time, the time is short.
Each thought resentful from thy mind be driven, And cherish love by sweet forgiveness bought; Thou soon wilt need the pitying love of heaven. The time, the time is short.
Where summer winds, aroma-laden, hover, Companions rest, their work forever wrought; Soon other graves the moss and fern will cover. The time, the time is short.
Up, up, my soul, the shade will soon be falling; Some good return in later seasons wrought; Forget thyself at duty's angel's calling. The time, the time is short.
By all the lapses thou hast been forgiven, By all the lessons prayer to thee hath taught, To others teach the sympathies of heaven. The time, the time is short.
To others teach the overcoming power That thee at last to God's sweet peace hath brought; Glad memories make to bless life's final hour. The time, the time is short.
From what thou art each day, whate'er thy station, Are new creations good or evil wrought; Seek thou thy joy in others' elevation. The time, the time is short. —Hezekiah Butterworth.