THANKSGIVING
There's not a leaf within the bower, -
There's not a bird upon the tree, -
There's not a dewdrop on the flower, -
But bears the impress. Lord, of Thee.
Thy power the varied leaf designed,
And gave the bird its thrilling tone;
Thy hand the dewdrops' tints combined,
Till like a diamond's blaze they shone.
Yes, dewdrops, leaves and buds, and all, -
The smallest, like the greatest things, -
The sea's vast space, the earth's wide ball,
Alike proclaim Thee, King of kings!
But man alone, to bounteous Heaven,
Thanksgiving's conscious strains can raise:
To favored man, alone, 'tis given.
To join the angelic choir in praise.
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