A Poem of Thanksgiving

I know it's a few weeks until Thanksgiving, but I refer to this poem often throughout the year. It's by Elisabeth Payson Prentiss (author of "Stepping Heavenward") and ever since I "discovered" it a couple or so years ago (or more), it's been a favorite prayer-poem of mine. I had it memorized once, and I'm on my way to getting it memorized again . . .


I thank Thee, O my God, that through Thy grace
I know Thee, who Thou art;
That I have seen the beauty of Thy face
And felt Thee in my heart.

I thank Thee, O my Saviour who hast deigned
To stoop to even me;
Within my inmost soul hast ruled and reigned,
And will my ranson be.

I thank Thee, Holy Spirit, that Thy wings
Brood o'er my wandering mind;
Bringing to my remembrance sacred things
To which my eyes were blind

I thank Thee, Triune God! But oh, how cold
The warmest words I speak;
For love and goodness strange and manifold
All human words are weak.

O teach me, then, to praise Thee with my life,
With stern obedience;
To make the atmosphere about me rife
With silent eloquence!