Shall the cry of the White Slave NEVER reach Heaven, Father Time?
Shall the song of the angels who hung over the infant Christ, NEVER throb, a living principle, in man’s government of man?
Is the Reformer always to be the Martyr, Father Time?
Is Wrong NEVER to be dethroned?
***
Oh, Father Time! We tremble as we feel you leading us toward the door of the New Year. Beyond that portal we cannot see, and we dread it—as children dread the dark.
Deal gently with us in the New Year, Father Time.
Give us strength to bear the Cross—for we know that we must bear it.
Give us courage for the battle, for we know that we must fight it.
Give us patience to endure, for we know that we shall need it.