A Thanksgiving

FOR the wealth of pathless forests,Whereon no axe may fall;For the winds that haunt the branches;The young bird's timid call;For the red leaves dropped like rubiesUpon the dark green sod;For the waving of the forests,I thank thee, O my God!

For the sound of waters gushingIn bubbling beads of light;For the fleets of snow-white liliesFirm-anchored out of sight;For the reeds among the eddies;The crystal on the clod;For the flowing of the rivers,I thank Thee, O my God!

For the rosebud's break of beautyAlong the toiler's way;For the violet's eye that opensTo bless the new-born day;For the bare twigs that in summerBloom like the prophet's rod;For the blossoming of flowers,I thank Thee, O my God!

For the lifting up of mountains,In brightness and in dread;For the peaks where snow and sunshineAlone have dared to tread;For the dark of silent gorges,Whence mighty cedars nod;For the majesty of mountains,I thank Thee, O my God!

For the splendor of the sunsets,Vast mirrored on the sea;For the gold-fringed clouds, that curtainHeaven's inner mystery;For the molten bars of twilight,Where thought leans, glad, yet awed;For the glory of the sunsets,I thank Thee, O my God!

For the earth, and all its beauty;The sky and all its light;For the dim and soothing shadows,That rest the dazzled sight;For unfading fields and prairies,Where sense in vain has trod;For the world's exhaustless beauty,I thank Thee, O my God!

For an eye of inward seeing;A soul to know and love;For these common aspirations,That our high heirship prove;For the hearts that bless each otherBeneath Thy smile, Thy rod;For the amaranth saved from Eden,I thank Thee, O my God!

For the hidden scroll, o'erwrittenWith one dear Name adored;For the Heavenly in the human;The Spirit in the Word;For the tokens of Thy presenceWithin, above, abroad;For Thine own great gift of Being,I thank Thee, O my God!