Thanksgiving

ANNE CLEVELAND CHENEY

My heart beats high with thankfulness
For many a dear event
The world counts just as little things;
But, ah, how they have meant
Great store for one who learns to bless
Their meaning and their preciousness —

The murmuring or intolerant word,
Hushed ere it went its way
To hurt some heart or hinder it;
A smile where grief claimed sway;
A heaven-sent little song that stirred
Fresh hopefulness in one who heard!