THE NEW YEAR

1912

Faint, yet pursuing, here we are
Sometimes both weak and lone;
Of toil and care we’ve had a share,
But still we’re marching home.

The mountain’s sometimes very steep,
Sometimes the valley’s low;
But through it all He’s kept our hand
He’ll never let us go.

His love holds fast, firm to the last,
To help He’s ever near,
To soothe the soul, to make it whole,
To dry away the tear.

He changeth not, He’s on the spot;
Of what, then should we fear?
The faintest sigh will bring Him nigh,
The Lord delights to hear.

He loves most dear, He likes to cheer,
To lift those that’s cast down,
To cheer the fainting as he goes,
Still pointing to the crown.

This being so, we’ll forward go,
God help us, never fear;
His help, His smile, He’ll give His child
On through this coming year.

M. McMaster, Killyless, 1st January 1912