The Year Begins With Thee

THE year begins with Thee,
And Thou begin’st with woe,
To let the world of sinners see
That blood for sin must flow.

Thine infant cries, O Lord,
Thy tears upon the breast
Are not enough, the legal sword
Must do its stern behest.

Seemeth it strange to me
My own will to deny?
Seemeth it sad, my soul, to Thee
Under the yoke to lie?

I look, and hold my peace:
The Giver of all good
E’en from His birth takes no release
From suffering, tears, and blood.

That I may reap in love,
Help me to sow in fear:
So life a winter’s morn may prove
To a bright endless year.