Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By Florence WeisbergNew Year
A
The tempests roll,
Chill mists of doubt, dread harbingers of ill
Assail the soul.
Behind the veil that hides our future fate
We stand in fear,
While yet the shaft of day illumes the dawn
Of this New Year.
How far along the road of life shall be
Our pilgrimage?
Or has the book of our day’s journey reached
Its farthest page?
Will star-crowned joy breathe in our ear sweet songs
Of love and mirth,
Or will sad grief with tear-filled eyes bow down
Our hearts to earth?
…..
Rest sure in Faith. Our times are in His hand,He guides our way,
And guards our feet thro’ darkness and thro’ storm
To perfect day.