OCR Text |
Show Thanksgiving Praise Alone, dear Lord, of all my nights and days, 1 cannot sine Thy goodness, far too vast For my weak utterance. Let m humbly cast LTpon ttie sweep of universal praise My stnie tribute; let the morning raise My anthems for me; let the storied past, In varied hallelujahs nobly massed, ICxalt the inflnfte story of Thy ways. , Where'er the blossoms glad in lovell- I ness ! Reflect Thy beauty, or the bird's bright song Has holy skill the Father's love to bless. Or where the shining stars through ages long The soul of worship silently express. Grant me a lowly place in that thanksgiving thanks-giving throng. Amos R. Wells. In the Continent. |