Poem February 18, 1933 Issue

Thanksgiving

FREDDA R. GRATKE

I thank Thee, God, for the consuming fire
That melts away the dross of human sense.
For thus alone does consciousness rise higher,
And gain the joy of Love's sweet recompense.

I thank Thee that the voice of Truth grows clearer.
The light of Love shines brighter on my way.
I feel Thy gentle presence ever nearer
That brings the promise of Life's glorious day.

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