THANKSGIVING

Supremest Life and Lord of All,

I bring my thanks to thee;

Not for the health that does not fail,

And wings me over land and sea;

Not for this body's pearl and rose,

And radiance made sure

By thine enduring life that flows

In sky-print swift and pure;

Not for the thought whose glowing power

Glides far, eternal, free,

And surging back in thy full hour

Bears the wide world to me;

Not for the friends whose presence is

The warm, sweet heart of things

Where leans the body for the kiss

That gives the soul its wings;

Not for the little hands that cling,

The little feet that run,

And make the earth a fitter thing

For thee to look upon;

Not for mine ease within my door,

My roof when rains beat strong,

My bed, my fire, my food in store,

My book when nights are long;

But, Lord, I know where on lone sands

A leper rots and cries;

Find thou my offering in his hands,

My worship in his eyes.

As thou dost give to him, thy least,

Thou givest unto me;

As he is fed I make my feast,

And lift my thanks to thee.