‘Tis past—and the recording angel bears
To Heaven the record of another year—
Another year of nature’s and of mine!
Nature has known no change.— The spring has bloom’d,
The autumn has fulfill’d the summer’s promise,
And winter’s mantle wraps her in repose.
Nature has known no wrong.—The simple flower
Liv’d but to do the purpose of its being,
And, uncorrupted; died when it was done.
The summer-fly has play’d its little hour,
Grateful, perhaps, and surely innocent.
The very dust we tread upon has been
All that its God ordain’d it—all he wish’d it.
Omniscient Lord! If wonder be in heaven,
Angels indeed will wonder, when they hear
That while all nature has fulfill’d thy law,
I, who have call’d thee Father—I have broke it.
Worse than the most despised thing of earth—
Worse than the very dust of which thou mad’st me;
They do thy will, but I have done my own.
My soul misgives me as I backward trace
The year that even now gone its way,
To witness of the things that it has seen.
By sin unstain’d, and by the world unshar’d?
Which are the hours—speak, Conscience! for thou knowest—
That no impetuous, no respectful thought,
No proud contempt, no haughty self-esteem,
No bold impatience against Heaven’s decree,
No restless wish for what my God denies,
No selfishness, no vanity has stain’d?
Where shall I date the deed that can disown
All other motive but my Maker’s will?
Alas! I cannot find them! Lord, thou knowest
Why I have still forsaken what I love,
And madly have pursued the thing I hate:
Judge if I hate it! Thou hast seen the tear
That fell when every eye but thine was clos’d;
Thou hast beheld the blush suffuse my cheeks
At thought of sins which only thou hadst known!
And, thou hast mark’d when sleep forsook my pillow,
Scar’d by the recollection of the wrong
That had been offer’d to my Saviour’s name.
Judge if I hate it! Yes, the year has clos’d,
And if the sum of all it can bequeath
Be sense of sin on every deed on mine,
How sweet a record does it leave of thee!
How often, when my vacillating foot
Has rashly trod the path of sin too near,
Some quick reproof, unknown to those who gave it,
Has timely whisper’d, “And canst thou do this?”
How often, when, forgetful of the past,
Guilty mistrust, and sullen discontent,
Have mark’d their sable shadows on my brow,
Has some sweet pledge and earnest of thy love—
Some flower unwonted blooming on my path—
E’en as a father wooes a captious child,
Recall’d the smile of grateful exultation!
And often when my lips could frame no prayer,
Thou hast said, “Fear not, Jesus pleads for thee!”
And when the bitterness of conscious guilt
Urg’d my impatient spirit to despair,
How many times redeeming love has spoken,
“Is it beyond the price that I have paid?”
Yes, I remember, when the swelling bosom
Told that the pang it suffer’d was too much,
How sweet a voice celestial spake within me,
“Didst thou not say, e’en now, Thy will be done?
“This is my will.—Wouldst thou not have it so?”
And I could date the hour when friends withdrew,
Malice was pleas’d; and they whom I had lov’d
Fix’d on my name the stigma of reproach;
And tell how sweetly thou couldst make me feel
The wrong was thine, and I but too much honour’d
In that thou suffer’dst me to share it with thee.
Thy love was tender, when my own was cold—
Thou couldst remember, e’en when I forgot;
When I provok’d thee, thou forbar’st to punish;
When I forsook thee, thou upheld’st me still;
When I denied thee, thou didst own me thine.
Bear off the record—bear it e’en to heaven!
I am content to blush while it is read;
Since he who reads will blot it with his tears;
And they who hear, with feeling voice will utter
Shame upon me, but glory to my God!
(Caroline Fry)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, God Poems, World Poems, Mind Poems, Nature Poems, Heaven Poems, Name Poems, Flowers Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Smiling Poems, Past PoemsBased on Keywords: suffuse, unstain, wooes, provok, past-, respectful, earth-, stigma, cold-, year-, father-