Dear love, His great wisdom chooseth
The path that we both have trod,
And through storm, and calm, and sunshine,
We rest in the hand of God
A NEW YEAR'S ADDRESS, 1870.
With noiseless footstep, like the white-robed snow,
The old year with closed record steals away;
Record of gladness, suffering, joy, and woe,
Of all that goes to make life's little day.
Here, in this bright and pleasant little town,
As everywhere, a noiseless scythe hath swept;
The bright, the green, the flow'ret all cut down,
For heart ties severed loving hearts have wept.
And some are gone we very ill can spare,
And some we gladly would have died to save,
And the young blossom of the hearth, so fair;
But all alike have passed thy gates, oh, grave!
We see so many sable signs of woe,
Each, with mute voice, _memento mori_ saith;
As if our town that erst has sparkled so
Were passing through the vale and shade of death.
But louder rumours from a far-off world
Come to our valley, where secure and free,
With the sword sheathed, the flag of battle furled,
We sit in peace beneath our emblem tree.
Pages:
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122