A Reflection on the Close of the Year, Occasioned by Hearing the Bells at Midnight

Is this a theme of mirth? who can rejoice
That time, important time so swiftly flies;
And scorn reflection's monitory voice,
The friendly power that wooes us to be wife?

For ever ye departed months, adieu!
What heart that knows your value can be gay?
What heart that asks reflection's conscious view,
How many hours fled unimprov'd away?

Yet oft her warning voice, e'er yet they past,
Cry'd “seize the precious minutes make them thine:
Ah how wilt thou account for so much waste
Of treasure lent for purposes divine?

O let my heart her needful dictates hear,
To her the solemn midnight hour I give,
And ask, while musing on the finish'd year,
How I have spent the time, and why I live?

How have ISpent the time? reflection say?
She answers “wasted many a precious hour,
“In careless indolence lost many a day,
“When heaven demanded every active power.

Why do I live? “Past errors to deplore,
“Low at the feet of sovereign grace to bow,
“For strength divine intreat (while I adore,)
“To dedicate to heaven the fleeting now.

Jesus, to thee, to thy atoning blood,
To thy unfully'd righteousness I fly:
O thou, my judge, my faviour, and my God,
Instruct me how to live and how to die.
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