["1891."]
BY REV. PHILIP B. STRONG.
|
Dear "1890" is no more! The year has gone like years before. With feelings foreign, sure, to none, I write an "1891." What lofty vows, what high resolves, The wakened soul to-day revolves! Will they endure, as now begun, Through all of "1891?" Oh, may more kindly words be said Than in the twelve-month that has fled; Far better, braver deeds be done Than then in "1891." What hath this year of loss or gain? Who knoweth? What of boon or bane? Life's thread may bright or dark be spun, Ah, shrouded "1891!" But faith is strong though sight is dim; We gladly leave the days with Him, And, trusting, wait the sands to run Of hopeful "1891." |
