Not for our lands, our wide-flung prairie wealth, Our mighty rivers born of friendly spring. Our inland seas, our mountains proud and high, Forests and orchards richly blossoming; Not for these, Lord, our deepest thanks are said As, humbly glad, we hail this day serene; Not for these most, dear Father of our lives, But for the love that in all things is seen. We thank Thee not for prestige born of war, For dauntless navies built for battle stress; Nor would we boast of armies massed for strife; These all are vain, O Lord of kindliness. What need have we of swords and bayonets, Of mighty cannon belching poisoned flame! O, woo us from the pagan love of these Lest we again defile Thy sacred name. We thank Thee, Lord, on this recurring day, For liberty to worship as we will; We thank Thee for the hero souls of old Who dared wild seas their mission to fulfill. O, gird our hearts with stalwart faith in good, Give us new trust in Thy providing hand, And may a spirit born of brotherhood Inspire our hearts and bless our native land. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO NANNETTE FALK-AUERBACH by SIDNEY LANIER THE WALL STREET PIT, MAY, 1901 by EDWIN MARKHAM AT SABBATH DOWN by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THE FLYING WORDS by MORRIS GILBERT BISHOP THREE PICTURES by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT FEMININE TALK by MAXWELL BODENHEIM CAELIA: SONNETS: 7 by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THE AUTHOR'S FRIEND TO THE READER by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |