My times are in Thy hand.@Psalm 31:15

Em­i­ly E. El­li­ott, Chimes of Con­se­cra­tion (Lon­don: See­ley, Jack­son & Hal­li­day, 1875), pag­es 78–79, alt.

Ves­per (Ack­field) W. Ack­field (🔊 pdf nwc).

Hush! the year is dying,
Soft, without a sound;
Snowflakes, shroud-like, lying,
On the earth around;
All its strivings over,
All its story done;
Now—its memories hover
O’er a year begun.

Some of us were lonely
In its brightest hours,
Sadly whispering, Only
Let Thy will be ours!

Some of us were tired
In its summer days;
Weary, we desired
Gladder, brighter ways.

We but seemed repeating
Changeless rounds of life,
Daily, hourly meeting
Well known cares and strife;
Life a little colder,
Fewer loving smiles,
We but growing older,
In familiar whiles.

Now the year is over,
Let us braver stand,
Seeking to discover
His—our Father’s—hand;
Let us follow wholly,
Though our sight be dim;
He would make us holy
For a life with Him.

Every day He sends us,
He Himself prepares;
He Himself attends us
Through its joys and cares;
His true love beseeching,
Let us, then draw near;
Seeking guidance, teaching,
For the opening year.