A Thanksgiving
For all Thy
blessings given there are many to thank Thee, Lord,
But for the
gifts withholden I fain would add my word.
For good
things I desired that barred me from the best,
The peace
at the price of honour, the sloth of a shameful rest;
The
poisonous sweets I longed for to my hungering heart denied,
The staff
that broke and failed me when I walked in the way of pride;
The tinsel
joys withheld that so content might still be mine,
The help
refused that might have made me loose my hand from Thine
The light
withdrawn that I might not see the dangers of my way;
For what
Thou hast not given, I thank Thee, Lord today.
Annie
Johnson Flint
No comments:
Post a Comment