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THANKSGIVING.
II.
There is a new song in my lips,
A song that fits to-day,
The music of a quiet stream
Upon its seaward way—
The monotone of such content
As to a mortal life is lent.
A song that fits to-day,
The music of a quiet stream
Upon its seaward way—
The monotone of such content
As to a mortal life is lent.
The song a tiny river sings
That through a meadow glides,
Half hidden by the waving grass
Its level course divides;
At last forgetful of the hills
That vexed so long its infant rills.
That through a meadow glides,
Half hidden by the waving grass
Its level course divides;
At last forgetful of the hills
That vexed so long its infant rills.
Not yet its chant of victory
Re-echoes from the shore;
Not yet is all its duty done,
Its rush and labor o'er;
But ocean neareth every day,
And bright is life that glides away.
Re-echoes from the shore;
Not yet is all its duty done,
Its rush and labor o'er;
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And bright is life that glides away.
A little hymn of gratitude,
Like bird-songs from their nest,
My heart must fashion into speech
And utter from its rest
A tender voice of thankfulness
For love that loveth most to bless.
Like bird-songs from their nest,
My heart must fashion into speech
And utter from its rest
A tender voice of thankfulness
For love that loveth most to bless.
The slow speech of a weary child
That, wandering lost and lone,
Comes unaware on home at last
And nestles to its own,
Wrapped all at once in warmth and peace,
Where all the storm and straying cease.
That, wandering lost and lone,
Comes unaware on home at last
And nestles to its own,
Wrapped all at once in warmth and peace,
Where all the storm and straying cease.
Ah! can it be, at last, at last,
The time of toil and tears,
Of bitter trouble overpast,
That hope again appears?
That after all this weary strife
I live to thank thee, Lord, for life?
The time of toil and tears,
Of bitter trouble overpast,
That hope again appears?
That after all this weary strife
I live to thank thee, Lord, for life?
To gather up the broken clue
And tread the path again
With quiet hope and thankfulness
I trod so long with pain,
To trust again with such a faith
As once was wounded unto death?
And tread the path again
With quiet hope and thankfulness
I trod so long with pain,
To trust again with such a faith
As once was wounded unto death?
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Lord, keep me closer at thy side
As life the sweeter grows,
Lest I forget in this content
The thorns beneath the rose.
That, dear as home and love may be,
I find them still most dear with Thee.
As life the sweeter grows,
Lest I forget in this content
The thorns beneath the rose.
That, dear as home and love may be,
I find them still most dear with Thee.
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