BY (REV.) T. L. DRURY.
This nineteen hundred-eighteenth year,
What will it bring to world and me?
It comes with pain of doubt and fear,
With omens fierce we dread to see,
With gloom so great we stand in awe,
And ask ourselves, "Is there no law?"
We ask ourselves, "Is love o'erthrown?
Is faith in man to be no more?
Is hope cast down from its bright throne?
Has heaven naught for us in store?
Is God not here to rule the day
And shape things in his own good way?"
What shall the year in all its round
Bring forth, O man, to you and me?
Shall better state than this be found
When we its final record see?
When full account is rendered then,
What shall it mean to sons of men?
The answer comes to fearless soul
Who knows the heart of things is right,
Who knows the universe is whole,
Who knows that truth and love are might,
Who sees thro' faith the end must be
A better race of man and free!
These evil things we loathe to see
Are simply like the ocean wave;
Beneath it is the silent sea
That onward bears the ships that brave
The storms severe, until at last
They are within the harbor fast!
I deem the end is always right,
The soul of things doth upward move,
And God is more than human might,
And greater than the sword is love,
And faith sublime shall clear the way
For man and earth to better day.
Troy Times. January 12, 1918