(blanc)

Thanksgiving

For all true words that have been spoken,
For all brave deeds that have been done,
For every loaf in kindness broken,
For every race in valor run,
For martyr lips which have not failed
To give God praise and smile to rest,
For knightly souls which have not quailed
At stubborn strife or lonesome quest;
Lord unto whom we stand in thrall
We give Thee thanks for all, for all.

For each fair field where golden stubble
Hath followed wealth of waving grain;
For every passing wind of trouble
Which bends Thy grass that lifts again;
For gold in mine that men must seek,
For work which bows the sullen knee;
For strength, swift sent to aid the weak,
For love by which we climb to Thee;
Thy freemen, Lord, yet each Thy thrall,
We give Thee praise for all, for all.

Margaret Sangster Kauffman, Donald T.
The Treasury of Religious Verse.
New York: Revell, 1966.

over and out

"Humor is to life what shock absorbers are to automobiles."
(Read Proverbs 17:22)