 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes |  |
440
MY BLESSINGS.
Great waves of plenty rolling up
Their golden billows to our feet,
Fields where the ungathered rye is white,
Or heavy with the yellow wheat;
Their golden billows to our feet,
Fields where the ungathered rye is white,
Or heavy with the yellow wheat;
Wealth surging inward from the sea,
And plenty through our land abroad,
With sunshine resting over all,
That everlasting smile of God!
And plenty through our land abroad,
With sunshine resting over all,
That everlasting smile of God!
For these, yet not for these alone,
My tongue its gratitude would say:
All the great blessings of my life
Are present in my thought to-day.
My tongue its gratitude would say:
All the great blessings of my life
Are present in my thought to-day.
For more than all my mortal wants
Have been, O God, thy full supplies;—
Health, shelter, and my daily bread,
For these my grateful thanks arise.
Have been, O God, thy full supplies;—
Health, shelter, and my daily bread,
For these my grateful thanks arise.
For ties of faith, whose wondrous strength
Time nor eternity can part;
For all the words of love that fall
Like living waters on my heart;
Time nor eternity can part;
For all the words of love that fall
Like living waters on my heart;
For even that fearful strife, where sin
Was conquered and subdued at length,
Temptations met and overcome,
Whereby my soul has gathered strength;
Was conquered and subdued at length,
Temptations met and overcome,
Whereby my soul has gathered strength;
For all the warnings that have come
From mortal agony or death;
For even that bitterest storm of life,
Which drove me on the rock of faith.
From mortal agony or death;
For even that bitterest storm of life,
Which drove me on the rock of faith.
For all the past I thank thee, God!
And for the future trust in thee,
Whate'er of trial or blessing yet,
Asked or unasked, thou hast for me.
And for the future trust in thee,
Whate'er of trial or blessing yet,
Asked or unasked, thou hast for me.
441
Yet only this one boon I crave,—
After life's brief and fleeting hour,
Make my belovéd thy beloved,
And keep us in thy day of power!
After life's brief and fleeting hour,
Make my belovéd thy beloved,
And keep us in thy day of power!
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes | |