Once more the con­stant sun,
Revolving round his sphere,
His stea­dy course has run,
And brings ano­ther year:
He ris­es, sets, but goes not back,
Nor ev­er quits his des­tined track.

Hence let be­liev­ers learn
To keep a for­ward pace;
Be this our main con­cern,
To fin­ish well our race.
Backslidings shun, with pa­tience press
Towards the Sun of Right­eous­ness.

What now shall be our task?
Or ra­ther what our pray­er?
What good thing shall we ask
To pros­per this New Year?
With one ac­cord our hearts we’ll lift
And ask our Lord some New Year’s gift.

No trif­ling gift or small
Should friends of Christ de­sire;
Rich Lord, be­stow on all
Pure gold, well tried by fire;
Faith that stands fast when dev­ils roar,
And love which lasts for ev­er­more!