p. 716 | The Home Circle by E. Norman Gunnison

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Nov 24, 1887

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 13, No. 45.

The Home Circle.

By E. Norman Gunnison

A THANKSGIVING HYMN.

For all our joys and all our woes, Our harvest-ground and fallow, We offer praise to Him who knows Each depth and every shallow. His loving hand has crowned our years With food for all the living, And for our smiles and for our tears This, this is our Thanksgiving.

Not ours alone for mercies past To praise his kindly keeping; His hand shall ripen at the last What we have sown with weeping. And though at times each human heart Has scanned His ways to doubt Him, The clouds which cover Him shall part And night grow bright about Him.

Our earthly discipline is sent— Each care and each denial— That as the reeds of life are bent, And break beneath the trial, Our hearts may rest on Him alone, And, drawing ever near Him, May seek and find Him all their own, And trust Him while they fear Him.

We thank the dear Lord for his gifts, And for each chastening measure; Whatever comes his hand uplifts The sunshine's golden treasure. For bursting barns, and bins well stored, The harvest of his giving, The mellow autumn's ripened hoard— This, this is our Thanksgiving.

We gather round the table, spread With every bounteous token; "Give us this day our daily bread" Is answered ere 'tis spoken. He gives to us before we call; His loving care is o'er us; And scarcely can we ask at all Ere it is placed before us.

We thank the dear Lord for the past, For joys and for afflictions, For trials which have changed at last To his own benedictions. And more than all, around each hearth His love alone could give us, We thank him for the loved of earth To-day that gather with us.

Fill up the grate and heap the board; He gives, with stintless measure, The yellow sunshine's golden hoard, The autumn's priceless treasure. His joy shall crown us with its hand, For gifts to all the living, For peace and plenty in the land— This, this is our Thanksgiving.

—E. Norman Gunnison.