My times are in Thy hand. Psalm 31:15
Ancient of Days! The years roll on
Obedient to Thy sole decree;
And when their destined work is done,
Merge in the past eternity.
Thousand of years have sped their way,
Since poised by Thine almighty hand;
Sun, moon, and stars, in bright array,
Have wheeled in spheres at Thy command.
Firm as the heavenly hosts appear,
The lines which future things portray,
Converge in one predestined year,
When Heaven and earth shall pass away.
Whate’er that consummation be,
Oh, let me, Lord, Thy mercy prove
In worlds upheaved, from danger free,
Within the covert of Thy love!
Ancient of Days! ’Tis Thine to say—
Man vainly tries to scan th’unknown—
How distant or how near the day,
When we must stand before Thy throne.
Through each new year vouchsafed to me,
Be this my being’s aim and end,
Thine here to live, in Heaven with Thee
A blessed eternity to spend.