p. 1 | EVERY YEAR

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · March 25, 1880

FromThe Review and Herald, Vol. 55, No. 13

“EVERY YEAR.”

The spring has less of brightness Every year, And the snow a ghastlier whiteness Every year; Nor do summer flowers quicken, Nor autumnal fruitage thicken As they once did, for we sicken Every year.

It is growing darker, colder, Every year, As the heart and soul grow older Every year; I care not now for the dancing, Or for eyes with passion glancing, Love is less and less entrancing Every year.

Of the loves and sorrows blended Every year, Of the joys of friendship ended Every year, Of the ties that still might bind me Until time to death resigned me, My infirmities remind me Every year.

Oh! how sad to look before me Every year, While the clouds grow darker o’er me Every year, Where we see the blossoms faded That to bloom we might have aided, And immortal garlands braided Every year.

To the past go more dead faces Every year, Come no new ones in their places Every year; Everywhere the sad eyes meet us, In the evening dark they greet us, And to come to them entreat us, Every year.

“You are growing old,” they tell us, “Every year;” “You are more alone,” they tell us, “Every year. You can win no new affection, You have only recollection, Deeper sorrow and dejection Every year.”

Thank the Lord, no clouds are shifting, Every year, O’er the land to where we’re drifting Every year; There no losses e’er will grieve us, There no loving faces leave us, Nor will death of friends bereave us, Every year.

—Selected.