Poem November 19, 1949 Issue

THANKSGIVING

Russell Lord, Jr.

I shall no more
gather the harvest grain
of sin and sorrow,
want and bitter pain.

I have come upon
a field so rich
in other fruits
that all the heart's day
cannot suffice
for gathering.

Call all lands
to the bounteous feast!

Today we rejoice
and give praise
to the Master Husbandman,
whose grain is ripe
for reaping.

Behold, the day
sheds joyous light
upon our singing.

Whole worlds dance
to the harmony
of our thanksgiving.

Russell Lord, Jr.

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November 19, 1949
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