<h2><SPAN name="poem40"></SPAN>THANKSGIVING</h2>
<p class="poetry">We walk on starry fields of white<br/>
And do not see the daisies,<br/>
For blessings common in our sight<br/>
We rarely offer praises.<br/>
We sigh for some supreme delight<br/>
To crown our lives with splendour,<br/>
And quite ignore our daily store<br/>
Of pleasures sweet and tender.</p>
<p class="poetry">Our cares are bold and push their way<br/>
Upon our thought and feeling;<br/>
They hang about us all the day,<br/>
Our time from pleasure stealing.<br/>
So unobtrusive many a joy<br/>
We pass by and forget it,<br/>
But worry strives to own our lives,<br/>
And conquers if we let it.</p>
<p class="poetry">There’s not a day in all the year<br/>
But holds some hidden pleasure,<br/>
And, looking back, joys oft appear<br/>
To brim the past’s wide measure.<br/>
But blessings are like friends, I hold,<br/>
Who love and labour near us.<br/>
We ought to raise our notes of praise<br/>
While living hearts can hear us.</p>
<p class="poetry">Full many a blessing wears the guise<br/>
Of worry or of trouble;<br/>
Far-seeing is the soul, and wise,<br/>
Who knows the mask is double.<br/>
But he who has the faith and strength<br/>
To thank his God for sorrow<br/>
Has found a joy without alloy<br/>
To gladden every morrow.</p>
<p class="poetry">We ought to make the moments notes<br/>
Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;<br/>
The hours and days a silent phrase<br/>
Of music we are living.<br/>
And so the theme should swell and grow<br/>
As weeks and months pass o’er us,<br/>
And rise sublime at this good time,<br/>
A grand Thanksgiving chorus.</p>
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