On Taking Down the Christmas Greens

Take down the fad­ed wreaths

Untwine the gar­lands gay

Though that glad time we hung them up

Seems but as yes­ter­day.

And from their crumb­ling leaves

We still can al­most hear

The ech­oes of the car­ols sweet

And greet­ings of new year.

But ah! full well we know

The fest­ive sea­son’s o’er;

And tread­ing in life’s dus­ty ways

We find our­selves once more.

More swift than wheels of steam

The gold­en hours have rolled;

And while we dreamed the year was young

We wake to find it old.

Now clear above the din

Of dai­ly toil and care

We hear again in so­lemn tones

The Lent­en call to pray­er:

Now turn from plea­sure’s round

A high­er joy to find

In fel­low­ship with Him whose death

Gave life to all man­kind.

Thus do the years go on

And times and sea­sons glide

Till soon the story of our life

Is closed and laid aside.

Ah! Life’s a mys­tic page!

In vain we strive to scan

The hid­den thought be­tween the lines—

God’s pur­pos­es to man.