The Vanishing Year.
Born in rejoicing and cradled in hope,1
Pointing new paths for adventurous feet,2
Promising power with the future to cope,3
Whispering low of the summer-time sweet,4
Camest thou hither. Now nearing thy bier,5
What dost thou leave us, O vanishing year ?6
Joy was not seldom o’ershadowed by grief ;7
Hope’s soaring pinion salt tears have bedight ;8
Sometimes the road forced a sigh for relief ;9
Often did weakness turn back from the fight ;10
Summer but lives as a memory dear—11
What dost thou leave us, O vanishing year ?12
Little, ah, little the harvest we know,13
We who seek treasure where treasure is none ;14
Wind-tossed and rain-kissed, we let the fruit go,15
Eager that perishing flowers may be won ;16
Murmuring sadly when these disappear—17
What dost thou leave us, O vanishing year ?18
Haply had sorrow a mission of love ;19
Black disappointment taught wisdom at length ;20
Weary, we learned to find comfort above ;21
Beaten, we trusted no more in our strength.22
Then, though its value be reckoned not here,23
Gracious thy guerdon, O vanishing year !24