THE year in silence dies away,

And softly o'er the snow

Another comes with outstretched hands,

Whose face we do not know;

Yet must we rise and walk with him

Wherever he may go.

Perhaps through waters deep and dark,

Perhaps by sunny rills,

O'er rough and thorny mountain sides,

Or pleasant sloping hills,

The stranger closely grasps our hands,

And leads us where he wills.

But high above the passing years

We know the Lord is King,

And every day of all the months

Some gift from him shall bring;

We trust him, and are not afraid

The while his love we sing.

He never has forgotten us!

The story of the years

Is full of his great goodness

Through all our hopes and fears;

And he will bless us every day,

And wipe away our tears.

After the darkness comes the dawn,

And though the past was sad,

The sunshine will break forth again,

And all the world be glad;

Where death has been, the flowers shall bloom,

In summer beauty clad.

And so we lift our eyes to Thee,

O Thou who changest not;

Thou keepest us within Thy heart—

We shall not be forgot;

And light from Thee shall bless the way,

Whate'er our earthly lot.

We thank Thee for thy tenderness;

We praise Thee for Thy grace;

We fear not anything that comes

Before we see Thy face.

Lead Thou us yet another year

Nearer Thy fair home place.