Children Poems

 

The Close Of The Year

 

 

DROPFING, dropping, dropping,

Slowly dropping away:

Like the silent sands of the hour-glass

Drops the old year day by day.

 

Dropping, dropping, dropping,

No sound of a spoken word;

But every day had a tale to tell,

Which only God has heard.

 

Dropping, dropping, dropping,

Swiftly dropping away:

So go the years of our early life

On their appointed way.

 

Dropping, dropping, dropping,

Oh, I joy to see them go,

If they tell a tale in our Father's ear

Of a holy life below.