Classic Poem

Thou who roll'st the year around,
Crowned with mercies large and free,
Rich thy gifts to us abound,
Warm our thanks shall rise to thee:
Kindly to our worship bow,
While our grateful praises swell,
That, sustained by thee, we now
Bid the parting year farewell.

All its numbered days are sped,
All its busy scenes are o'er,
All its joys forever fled,
All its sorrows felt no more:
Mingled with th' eternal past,
Its remembrance shall decay,
Yet to be revived at last,
At the solemn judgment day.

All our follies, Lord, forgive;
Cleanse each heart and make us thine;
Let thy grace within us live,
As our future suns decline;
Then when life's last eve shall come,
Happy spirits let us fly
To our everlasting home,
To our Father's house on high.