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97
REVOLVING YEARS.
The years rush on with quick-revolving wheel;Like planets round their central sun they fly—
Obedient to the will of God Most High:
Their crescent orbs to light they now reveal,
And now their face in darkness they conceal.
This new year, dawning fresh upon the eye,
Already it begins to hasten by,
And out of sunshine into shadow steal;
But though the years depart, they cannot die—
“Their works do follow them” in gloom or glow:
The planets leave no tracks upon the sky,
But the swift years will lasting footsteps show;
And little words let fall for Christ below
Will send their ripples through Eternity!
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