Questions & Answers
New Year again has come, The glad New Year! To many a heart and home It brings good cheer. New Life doth always come Where God doth dwell; Have Him within the home, And all is well.
At the Beautiful Gate sat the lame one, Bewailing a fate so forlorn, Oft wishing, since all men forgot him, He had never in this world been born. Through the wide entrance crowded the Zealot, The Pharisee, Sadducee, Scribe; Of them all scarcely one gave a penny, Or a thought to the poor of their tribe.
What awful gifts of rapture or despair Hold thy closed hands, oh thou New Year, for me? 'Twixt thy far close and this thy January, What mysteries shall be of love and prayer? The heights of Life where I would walk are fair; But in the valley where the damp mists be, I may grope blindly on. Ah, let me see The longed-for heights! Let me respire that air, And know its healing, whatsoe'er await! I do not pray for any dear delights, Seeing my very days oft turn to nights; Only I ask, whatever me wait, Thy days, New Year, may witness me, though late, If not upon, yet making for the heights.
The husbandman Comes early, with the pruning-hooks and shears, And strips it bare of all its innocent pride And wandering garlands, and cuts deep and sure, Unsparing for its tenderness and joy. And in its loss and pain it wasteth not; But yields itself with unabated Life, More perfect under the despoiling hand.
One in Spirit be, Bound in unity, One in Hope and Life, Safe from mortal strife. Turn from gloom to light, Shunning sinful night.
Where are the works in patience wrought, The grace to love thy neighbor, The sins left off, the wisdom taught Of suffering and labor, The fuller life, the strength to wait, The equal heart for either fate? Well may I speed the parting guest, And take the New Year to my breast. Be thou indeed a true year, Oh fair and welcome New Year.
Christmas is coming, bright and gay, With sound of mirth and ring of sleigh. Give heed to One whose radiant love Shone o'er our world from Heaven above,— Who made this earth a globe of light, Till darkling human thought turned bright; Then go, as he would bid you do, If he were with us here below, And help some weary heart to rest Upon your Saviour's tender breast.
Urged by ambition, she, with subtlest skill, Changes her mien. The enthusiast, as a dupe, Shall soar; and, as a hypocrite, can stoop, And turn the instruments of good to ill, Moulding the credulous people to her will.
Bright up into Bossy's eyes Looked the Daisy boldly; But, alas! to his surprise, Bossy ate him coldly. Listen! Daisies in the fields, Hide away from Bossy! Daisies make the milk she yields, And her coat grow glossy.
A fair little girl climbed up in a tree, "To see how Heaven looked," she said. Small notice she took of the long ascent, Seeing only the sky o'erhead.