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.
At peace, because the madly-wicked men
Who sought to kindle flames of border war
Have in confusion failed yet, once again,
Their braggart plans dissolved in empty air.
In the Nor' West threat'nings of strife arose,
The muttered thunders all have died away;
Unstained by blood may sleep their mantling snows;
Unmarred by civil strife their wintry day.
War clouds seemed o'er the hapless land to brood,
The warning bugle sounded far abroad;
Red River might have ran with kindred blood,
But Manitoba heard the speaking God.