God of the rolling year! to Thee we raise
A nation's holiest hymn in grateful praise!
Plenty and peace abound at Thy behest,
Yet wherefore this Thy love? Thou knowest best!
Thou who, impartial, blessings spreadst abroad,
Thou wisdom, Love, and Truth,—divinely God!
Who giveth joy and tears, conflict and rest,
Teaching us thus of Thee, who knowest best!
Ruler Supreme! to Thee we'll meekly bow,
When we have learned of Truth what Thou doest now—
Why from this festive hour some dear lost guest
Bears hence its sunlit glow—Thou knowest best!
How have our honored dead fought on in gloom!
Peace her white wings will spread over their tomb;
Why waited their reward, triumph and rest,
Till molds the hero form? Thou knowest best!
Shades of our heroes! the Union now is one,
The star whose destiny none may outrun;
Tears of the bleeding slave poured on her breast,
When to be wiped away, Thou knowest best!
Thou who in the Christ hallowed its grief,—
O meekest of mourners, while yet the chief,—
Give to the pleading hearts comfort and rest,
In that benediction which knoweth best!
Lynn, Mass., December 7, 1865.