II.

_Jesu, Redemptor!_ at thy feet we kneel, Who burn the tapers round the dying year; Rest we beseech for him that lieth here, And on the blotted page thy mercy’s seal. Through this dark night we wait with hope the day, Ready the handmaid of thy grace to greet Who hear the rhythm of her strong, young feet— The fair New Year, advancing swift this way. Jesus, most patient, does thy morning break? Shall she we wait for, with thy Spirit’s breath Stir to new life a world that slumbereth? Shall last year’s thorns to fleecy blossom wake? Cometh thy kingdom? Shall thy will be done, And Calvary’s shade be lost in Thabor’s sun?