Poetry Archives

Until the day break, and the shadows flee
away.—Song of Solomon 4:6.


Gleaming softly, silvery-faint,
Heralded by chanticleer,
Merging from night’s shadowy taint,
New day of the passing year!

Born to bless or born to blight,
Born for you and born for me,
Leaving, ere it take its flight,
Impress on eternity!

’Tis a gift from God’s own hand.
On its pure unsullied page
Let us write at his command
What will bless our pilgrimage.

True repentance giveth joy
To the angels in the sky.
What could be more blest employ
Than to cheer the choirs on high?

Deeds of patience, deeds of love,
Banishing all hate and guile—
These will steer toward heaven above,
These will make the angels smile.

May this child of time unite
Earth and heaven in blest accord,
Heathen nations see the light
From the cross of Christ our Lord.

Coming is the glad daybreak,
The prophetic jubilee;
Sin will then all hearts forsake,
Then will all the shadows flee.