These were originally part of Christmas Hymns, but when that page got too large, I moved them here.
From A collection of hymns adapted to public worship, The third edition, pp81-1, 1778.
HYMN LXXVI. Common Measure.
Hymn for New-Year's Day.
AND now, my Soul, another Year
Of thy short Life is pass'd;
I cannot long continue here,
And this may be my last.
Much of my dubious Life is gone,
Nor will return again;
And swift my passing Moments run,
The few that yet remain.
Awake, my Soul, with utmost Care
Thy true Condition learn;
What are thy Hopes, how sure, how fair;
And what thy great Concern?
Now a new Scene of Time begins,
Set out afresh for Heaven;
Seek Pardon for thy former Sins,
In Christ so freely given.
Devoutly yield thyself to God,
And on His Grace depend;
With Zeal pursue the heavenly Road,
Nor doubt a happy End.
From A collection of hymns adapted to public worship, The third edition, p78, 1778.
HYMN LXXIII. Long Measure.
For New-Year's Day.
1 Sam. 7. 12.
ETERNAL God, we bless Thy Name:
The same Thy Power, Thy Grace the same:
The Tokens of Thy friendly Care
Open, and crown, and close the Year.
We 'midst ten thousand Dangers stand,
Supported by Thy guardian Hand;
And see, when we survey They Ways,
Ten thousand Monuments of Praise.
Thus far Thy Arm has led us on;
Thus far we make Thy Merchy known;
And, while we tread this Desert Land,
New Mercies shall new Songs demand.
Our grateful Songs, on Jordan's Shore,
Shall raise one sacred Pillar more;
Then bear, in His bright Courts above,
Inscriptions of immortal Love. D.
From A collection of hymns adapted to public worship, The third edition, pp78-9, 1778.
HYMN LXXIV. Long Measure.
For New-Year's Day. Psal. 65. 11.
ETERNAL Source of every Joy!
Well may Thy Praise our Lips employ,
Wile in Thy Temple we appear
To hail Thee, Sovereign of the Year.
Wide as the Wheels of Nature roll,
Thy Hand supports and guides the Whole:
The Sun is taught by Thee to rise,
And Darkness when to veil the Skies.
The flowery Spring, at Thy Command,
Perfumes the Air, and paints the Land:
The Summer Rays with Vigor shine
To raise the Corn and cheer the Vine.
Thy Hand, in Autumn, richly pours
Through all our Coasts redundant Stores;
And Winters, softened by Thy Care,
No more the Face of Horror wear.
Seasons, and Months, and Weeks, and Days
Demand successive Songs of Praise;
And be the grateful Homage paid,
With Morning Light, and Evening Shade.
Here in Thy House let Incense rise,
And circling Sabbaths bless our Eyes,
Till to those lofty Heights we soar,
Where Days and Years revolve no more. D.
From A collection of hymns adapted to public worship, The third edition, pp79-80.
HYMN LXXV. Long Measure.
For New-Year's Day. Jerem. 28. 16.
GOD of my Life, Thy constant Care
With Blessings crowns each opening Year;
This guilty Life dost Thou prolong,
And wake anew my annual Song.
How many precious Souls are fled
To the vast Regions of the Dead,
Since, from this Day, the changing Sun
Through his last yearly Period run?
We yet survive; but who can say,
Or through the Year, or Month, or Day,
He shall retain his vital Breath;
Thus far, at least, in League with Death?
That Breath is Thine, eternal God,
'Tis Thin to fix the Soul's abode;
We hold our Life from Thee alone,
On Earth, or in the World unknown.
To Thee our Spirits we resign,
O make and own them still as Thine;
So shall they smile secure from Fear,
Though Death should blast the rising Year.
Thy Children, eager to be gone,
Bid Time's impetuous Tide roll on;
And land them on that happy Shore,
Where Sin and Death are known no more. D.
From An appendix to the Psalms and hymns, used at the parish church of St. Botolph without Aldersgate, p32, 1795.
HYMN III.
FOR THE NEW YEAR.
THEE we adore, eternal name!
And humbly own to thee,
How feeble is our mortal frame,
What dying worms we be!
Our wasting lives grow shorter still
As days and months increase;
And ev'ry beating pulse we tell
Leaves but the number less.
The year rolls round, and steals away,
The breath that first it gave;
Whate'er we do, whate'er we be
We're travelling to the grave.
Great God, on what a slender thread
Hang everlasting things!
Th' eternal state fo all the dead!
Upon life's feeble strings?
Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense
To walk this dang'rous road;
And if our souls are hurried hence,
May they be found with God!