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ABOUT THE 
 DEATH-BED OF THE YEAR. 
 
 A CHRISTMAS TIDE MOSAIC, 
 
 — BY— 
 
 E. C. Armstrong. 
 
 
 NEW YORK, 
 December 25th, 1885. 
 
 PILLSBURY: 
 Manufacturing Stationer and Printer, 
 680 6th Ave., cor. 3gth St. 
 

 Copyrighted, 1885 
 By E. C. Armstrong. 
 
0© 
 
 IS^O 
 
 <s 
 
 I in MEMORIA 
 
 AJ 
 
 M. A. MCN. 
 
 DIED 
 
 SEPTEMBER 16, 1882. 
 
 ^Wi L\Y upon fchy grave this wreath of song, 
 
 /U ])car, faithful, loving heart, 
 
 L Whose love for me so tender was, and strong. 
 To thee my soul's first melodies belong. 
 Into my life tliy gentle presence came 
 Witli God-sent love, a purifying flame. 
 And never can depart. 
 
I. 
 
 ^K^HILE firesides blush and nature's fair face pales 
 /^ Witli snow at Christmas tide, 
 
 I The heart grows warm, though beat upon by gales, 
 Aad man to man the better self unveils 
 In gifts, which imitate in miniature 
 His gift who gave to make the vilest pure. 
 And for his purpose died. 
 
 II. 
 
 |5p|X this mosaic of a modest muse 
 /S No gorgeous tints are wrought, 
 
 t But prayers and wishes lend their love-lit hues 
 And faith in human kind the whole imbues. 
 One who is forced at times to sing, would lay 
 Among the costlier gifts on New-year's day 
 These crystals of his thought. 
 
III. 
 
 fM*f THROW across the clear! year's broast a chain, 
 '^yt Woven in links of rhyme, 
 
 1 Of flowerets grown in sunshine, mist, and rain, 
 Upon the borderland of heart and brjiin, 
 Then pass to drop the buds of hope and prayer 
 Upon the new-born face, divinely fair, 
 Of the next child of time. 
 
 IV. 
 
 )BOUT the death-bed of the year, no wail 
 ""^J?^ Of weeping sorrow sounds, ^ 
 
 I For we who watch his vital forces fail. 
 Have lately by a manger cried: *^A11 hail 
 The infant Prince of Peace and Lord of Light, 
 Who comes to dissipate the brc'oding night 
 Where human sin abounds ! " 
 
V. 
 
 S^OT '^ith the mirth of players on the stage, 
 yu Who wait the prompter's bell 
 
 I To act their parts of mimic love or rage, 
 In youth assumed, or counterfeited age, 
 But with the soldier hearts of those who know 
 To-morrow's march may meet the drawn-up foe. 
 We wait the old year's knell. 
 
 VI. 
 
 ^(^HALlj wo not kneel in resolute array, 
 ^y^ And bid all jesting cease, 
 
 I As covenanters knelt of old to pray. 
 
 Before their swords were stained in bloody fray ? 
 They pr;yed the God of battles, but the rame 
 That fanned their courage to its fearless flame, 
 Was Jesus, Prince of Peace. 
 
/^ 
 
 VII. 
 
 ^BNEATH the banner of His love we fight, 
 And in tlie battle's roar, 
 r March on to put the sin He hates to flight 
 To speed the dawn, to drive away the night. 
 A growing likeness to the risen Lord, 
 Is for the faithful soul its best reward 
 Both now and evermore. 
 
 YIII. 
 
 ^^^ITH faces lightward, shadows backward fall 
 /^ On paths of sorrow trod. 
 
 I Upon our ears thej-e falls the bugle call 
 To battle with the sins that would enthrall. 
 The scarred survivors of a warlike past, 
 We face fresh fights, but victors at the last 
 Shall we ascend to God. 
 
ffl|HE sin fought dowii is prophet of the time 
 ^(& When we shall sin no more, 
 
 t When solid rock shall take the place of slime, 
 When slipping feet shall learn at last to climb. 
 We imita:e that life of gain from loss 
 Which lay between a manger and a cross, 
 A desert and a shore. 
 
 X. 
 
 HALL I insert the bright-hued wish that pain 
 'Trg May never shadow throw ? 
 
 I The dark-robed angel never comes in vain. 
 A chosen messenger is he to train. 
 And to a better growth the soul confine. 
 As gardeners sharply cut and trim a vine, 
 That it may fniitful grow. 
 
XI. 
 
 ^plLTElSr dare I wish his presoncG in th^ jear ? 
 ^}<^ Not that/ not that be mine I 
 
 I Whene'er his hand brought forth the sigh or tear, 
 My heart would sink in sudden pang of fear, 
 ** Perchance my prayer is answered in the blows." 
 So, let it be with Him who only knows 
 When best to trim the vine. 
 
 XII. 
 
 ^I^IJT speed the wish on airy pinions strong, 
 ^7?ft That, in the coming year, 
 
 I Our feet, on flint or turf, may walk along 
 An upward path, and our faith be a song 
 That, lark-like leaving earth for sky, 
 Shall force an upward look from passers by 
 And chain their souls to. hear. 
 
XIJI. 
 
 ^^A-Y those who, weary with the march of jenrs, 
 ■^/g Must still their vigils keep, 
 
 [Be calm when love disguised as death appears, 
 And close the eyes that say good-bye to tears, 
 As a tired infant on its mother's breast 
 Is hushed by loving lullabies to rest 
 
 And sinks to dreamless sleep. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 ^rn^IIEY sink to sleep, but soon shall they arise 
 /& In forms more fair and bright 
 
 LThan any beauty seen by earthly eyes, 
 Than any glory of the western skies. 
 Where ditis the worn-out old, the new is born. 
 The setting sun is herald of the morn 
 Beyond the coming night. 
 
|R^AY we wlio, toiling on, still watch the hours, 
 ^tS Each like a graver's tool, 
 
 I Out deep the sun that shines or storm that lowers, 
 Be blest with grace to quicken all our powers 
 And make us fit to finish well the task f 
 
 That harder seems than human love would ask, 
 Through all our earthly school. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 ^ND still another prayer for that same grace, 
 ''^^ In all our gayer scenes, 
 
 I^To glorify a firmly radiant face 
 x\nd with our mirthful hours keep steady pace. 
 Have we not cause to know that; careless glee 
 May often have its end in gayety 
 That unto folly leans ? 
 
XVI r. 
 
 ^^0, keeping faith to Hi rn who keepeth us, 
 /^ Our roagh-hewn blocks of time, 
 
 Iln maaner seeming strange, miraculous, 
 Sli ill rise into a building glorious ; 
 Without, "he guarded gate and moated wall ; 
 Within, a temple's arches wide and tall; 
 Abore. the soiuidinsr chime. 
 
 xvrii. 
 
 ^^BOUT this temple-fortress of our life, 
 S?4 While peals or tolls its bell, 
 
 lAnd riarshalled moments march, in peace or strife, 
 To tuneful flute or warlike drum and fife. 
 Still shall each passing hour cry clear and bold. 
 As city -watchmen did in nights of old, 
 
 '* All's well! xill's well! All's well!'' 
 
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