On we go upon life’s ocean,
Many a blast and many a storm;
While we keep near to the Master,
None of these can do us harm.

Sometimes darkness gathers round us,
And the way we scarcely see,
Through the darkness comes a whisper,
I am ever nigh to Thee.

This should make our faith much stronger,
Banish every lingering fear;
Feel His touch so kind and tender,
As we meet the coming year.

Dear old year, its arms are folded,
Now it sleeps in quiet rest;
But I see the young year dawning,
Blooming on the old year’s breast.

May it carry on its bosom,
Balm for every wounded soul,
Grace to bind the hearts now bleeding,
Grace to make and keep them whole.

Grace to tell His every sorrow,
Always whispering in His ear,
Arm in arm to walk with Jesus,
Floating on the sweet New Year.

Malcolm McMaster (date unknown)

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