Classic Poem

For all the gracious gifts in harvests fair
In things material whose goodly share
I richly prize;
For man's abundant wealth that lies in sight,
And for the sense of power and of might
With which to meet my foe, and fight the fight,
My thanks arise.

But for the richer gifts of Love and Peace
That bring the soul a sense of sweet release
From pressing care;
For mercies shown; for greater growth of soul;
For light when clouds of deadly dark uproll
To point the way to some more lofty goal,
And lead us there;

For broader human sympathy; for tears
Of Brotherhood to ease another's fears,
And cheer his way;
For seeing eyes; and shoulders fit to bear
The burdens of our fellows in despair,
And right good will to help them in their care
When times are gray;

For men of heart and soul inclined
To honors of a lowlier, meeker kind,
With grace endued;
Who seek all dire injustices to mend,
To guide the hopeless to some hopeful end,
Not this alone, but all my days, I spend