Lyrics of Life (1909)/Thanksgiving

From Wikisource
Jump to: navigation, search
For works with similar titles, see Thanksgiving (Coates).


Now gracious plenty rules the board,
 And in the purse is gold;
By multitudes in glad accord
 Thy giving is extolled.
Ah, suffer me to thank Thee, Lord,
 For what thou dost withhold!

I thank Thee that howe'er we climb
 There yet is something higher;
That though through all our reach of time
 We to the stars aspire,
Still, still beyond us burns sublime
 The pure sidereal fire!

I thank Thee for the unexplained,
 The hope that lies before,
The victory that is not gained,—
 O Father, more and more
I thank Thee for the unattained,
 The good we hunger for!

I thank Thee for the voice that sings
 To inner depths of being;
For all the spread and sweep of wings,
 From earthly bondage freeing;
For mystery—the dream of things
 Beyond our power of seeing!