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A THANKSGIVING.
Warm hands have clasped mine own, kind eyes have greeted
The wandering exile to a home most dear,
Fond words of welcome, oftentimes repeated,
Have proven sweetest music to my ear;
And, with a saddened heart, yet unrepining,
I tread the paths I oft before have trod,
With arm and thought and heart all intertwining
With one now gathered to the fold of God!

And now I come with chastened heart, my Father,
To praise Thy goodness and adore Thy grace,
Who, when death's billows paused, new strength to gather,
Led me to seek, with earnest heart, Thy face!
Thou, Who didst teach me, travel-worn and weary
To cast my burden of unrest on Thee;
And when the night was long, the prospect dreary,
The comfort of Thy Presence gave to me!

I thank Thee for the many blessings scattered
Along my path, from childhood until now,
And though full many an idol Thou hast shattered,
And into dust and darkness laid them low,
I know in love Thou didst it—that, returning
From paths forbidden and from ways unblest,
The broken heart might come, repenting, yearning
For peace and pardon on a Saviour's breast.