A New Year's Day Poem By Charles Moir
O Thou whose glory fills the heavens,
Whose bounty clothes the earth,
To Thee a poem of thanks we raise
For blessings from our birth.
For that untiring love Thou dost,
From day to day renew,
O may it on our hearts descend
Like heaven-distilled dew.
For mercy great, unending still,
Which gave up to the grave
Thine only Son, the Sinless One,
Our sinful souls to save.
While entering on another year
Our cares on Thee we cast,
Beseeching aid in days to come
Which cheered us through the past.
That still the freedom may be ours
To kneel down in Thy sight,
And worship Thee at shut of day,
And in the morning light.
That from temptation's fatal paths
Thou turn our steps away;
And keep us from unholy thoughts
That lead the mind astray.
No more may lust of worldly wealth
Command thoughts that are thine;
Nor may we envy other's lot,
Or at our own repine.
Than all the riches earth can boast
Or gems beneath the sea,
We know the pious, humble heart,
More precious is to Thee.
How needful, then, to train our thoughts,
And fan the heavenly flame
Of faith, in the believing heart,
Triumphing o'er sin and shame
And holding by the Word, thou hast
For grace and guidance given,
Pass trough this world in holy fear,
True candidates for heaven.