Beyond the darksome grave.

One year of priceless time has passed,
Since we in Sabbath school were class'd,
To read and sing and pray;
To hear the counsels of the good;
Have we improved them as we should?
How stands the case to-day?

How have we used this fleeting year?
Have we grown wiser? O, I fear,
And tremble to reflect,
How sadly it has gone to loss,
How I have shunn'd my daily cross,
Some idol to erect.

To gain some trifling, selfish end,
It may be I have wronged a friend,
And turned his love to hate;
How many idle words I've said;
How many broken vows I've made;
How shunn'd the narrow gate!

O Lord! forgive our wanderings wide,
Our oft departures from thy side,
And keep us in thy fold;
Be thou our Shepherd and our all;
Protect these lambs, lest any fall,
And perish in the cold.