Mother Agnes O’Flynn was mother superior of the Ursuline Sisters of Mount Saint Joseph from 1920-28. Among her papers was this ode to the passing of 1912. As the Ursuline Sisters conclude 2012, the 100th year of their existence as an independent community, this seems fitting to share.
“The Passing of Nineteen Hundred and Twelve”
O Nineteen Twelve
We love thee well!
‘Tis hard to part
From thy dear heart;
‘Tis sad to see
Thee old and gray,
Resign thy throne
To New Year’s Day.
Our tears now flow
To see thee go
To join the tide
Of ages wide,
The ages gone before.
Yes, Nineteen Twelve
We love thee well;
This New Year’s Eve
Before you leave
Our earth forever more,
We pause to count
The great among
Of Heavenly gifts
Thy hand bestowed
Our convent home.
One year ago
We asked of you,
O New Year bright
What will we pray
The future be?
You answered not,
But pointed up
To Him who rules above.
“O trust in Him
This God of love
Who knoweth all
His children’s needs,
And e’en the birds
Doth sweetly feed.”
We trusted Him
And ah! He heard
Our every prayer
And sent His blessings
Rich and rare.
Dear Nineteen Twelve
As now we dwell
Upon thy days
Sweet Mercy’s Ways
We plainly see
At Maple Mount;
We cannot count
His gifts of love –
We look around;
From barn to cellar
Doth abound
A harvest rich –
O see the hay –
The stock at bay –
The splendid meat,
And what a treat
Of beans and peas –
And if you please
Good sauerkraut –
Potatoes too,
We owe to you.
Dear Nineteen Twelve
And how we prize
The concrete walks
Upon our grounds;
No better sure
Can there be found –
In country round –
We thank for health
(‘Tis more than wealth)
For school and convent, too.
But oh! Best gift
We proudly lift
To God in grateful praise –
Our banner bright –
Our own birthright –
Our Independence Day.
Yes, Nineteen Twelve
We love thee well
For this best gift
Of all the years.
We joy to see
In Christmas glee
The dear white wings
Go flitting ‘round –
They, too, are gifts
We owe to thee
Dear Nineteen Twelve.
Our chaplain, too,
So good and true
We prize among
Your best of gifts.
Our Christmas Feast –
Profession Day;
Eleven brides
To serve always
The God of Love.
O blessings rich
O blessings rare
Of Nineteen Twelve!
No wonder that
We love thee well!