Nancy Streza - Words of Thanksgiving

Words of Thanksgiving Prayers, Poems and Meditations for the Month of November edited by Nancy Streza 2012 by Xist Publishing Illustrations are licensed from Fotolia ISBN-13: 978-1-62395-441-3 All rights reserved No portion of this book may be reproduced without express permission of the publisher All images licensed from Fotolia First Edition Published in the United States by Xist Publishing www.xistpublishing.com
PO Box 61593 Irvine, CA 92602 Thanksgiving
Ralph Waldo Emerson For each new morning with its light, For rest and shelter of the night, For health and food, For love and friends, For everything Thy goodness sends. For flowers that bloom about our feet; For tender grass, so fresh, so sweet; For song of bird, and hum of bee; For all things fair we hear or see, Father in heaven, we thank Thee! We Gather Together
Adrianus Valerius Translation by Theodore Baker We gather together to ask the Lords blessing; He chastens and hastens his will to make known; The wicked oppressing now cease from distressing, Sing praises to his name: He forgets not his own. Beside us to guide us, our God with us joining, Ordaining, maintaining his kingdom divine; So from the beginning the fight we were winning; Thou, Lord, wast at our side, All glory be thine! We all do extol thee, thou leader triumphant, And pray that thou still our defender wilt be. Let thy congregation escape tribulation; Thy name be ever praised! O Lord, make us free! For The Beauty Of The Earth
Folliot.S Pierpoint For the beauty of the earth For the glory of the skies, For the love which from our birth Over and around us lies. Lord of all, to Thee we raise, This our hymn of grateful praise. For the beauty of each hour, Of the day and of the night, Hill and vale, and tree and flower, Sun and moon, and stars of light.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise, This our hymn of grateful praise. For the joy of ear and eye, For the heart and minds delight, For the mystic harmony Linking sense to sound and sight. Lord of all, to Thee we raise, This our hymn of grateful praise. For the joy of human love, Brother, sister, parent, child, Friends on earth and friends above, For all gentle thoughts and mild. Lord of all, to Thee we raise, This our hymn of grateful praise. For each perfect gift of Thine, To our race so freely given, Graces human and divine, Flowers of earth and buds of Heaven.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise, This our hymn of grateful praise. Come, Ye Thankful People, Come
Henry Alford Come, ye thankful people, come, Raise the song of harvest home! All is safely gathered in, Ere the winter storms begin; God, our Maker, doth provide For our wants to be supplied; Come to Gods own temple, come; Raise the song of harvest home! We ourselves are Gods own field, Fruit unto his praise to yield; Wheat and tares together sown Unto joy or sorrow grown; First the blade and then the ear, Then the full corn shall appear; Grant, O harvest Lord, that we Wholesome grain and pure may be. For the Lord our God shall come, And shall take the harvest home; From His field shall in that day All offenses purge away, Giving angels charge at last In the fire the tares to cast; But the fruitful ears to store In the garner evermore. Then, thou Church triumphant come, Raise the song of harvest home! All be safely gathered in, Free from sorrow, free from sin, There, forever purified, In Gods garner to abide; Come, ten thousand angels, come, Raise the glorious harvest home! Psalm 95 O come, let us sing unto the LORD: let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms. For the LORD is a great God, and a great King above all gods.

In his hand are the deep places of the earth: the strength of the hills is his also. The sea is his, and he made it: and his hands formed the dry land. O come, let us worship and bow down: let us kneel before the LORD our maker. Count Your Blessings
Author Unknown Count your blessings instead of your crosses; Count your gains instead of your losses. Count your joys instead of your woes; Count your friends instead of your foes. Count your smiles instead of your tears; Count your courage instead of your fears.

Count your full years instead of your lean; Count your kind deeds instead of your mean. Count your health instead of your wealth; Count on God instead of yourself. We Give You Thanks
Book of Common Prayer Almighty and gracious Father, we give you thanks for the fruits of the earth in their season and for the labors of those who harvest them. Make us, we pray, faithful stewards of your great bounty, for the provision of our necessities and the relief of all who are in need, to the glory of your Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things.

They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. Thanksgiving Address Abraham Lincoln A Thanksgiving George MacDonald I Thank Thee, boundless Giver, That the thoughts Thou givest flow In sounds that like a river All through the darkness go. And though few should swell the pleasure, By sharing this my wine, My heart will clasp its treasure, This secret gift of Thine. My heart the joy inherits, And will oft be sung to rest; And some wandering hoping spirits May listen and be blest.

For the sound may break the hours In a dark and gloomy mood, As the wind breaks up the bowers Of the brooding sunless wood. For every sound of gladness Is a prophet-wind that tells Of a summer without sadness, And a love without farewells; And a heart that hath no ailing, And an eye that is not dim, And a faith that without failing Shall be complete in Him. And when my heart is mourning, The songs it lately gave, Back to their fount returning, Make sweet the bitter wave; And forth a new stream floweth, In sunshine winding fair; And through the dark wood goeth Glad laughter on the air. For the heart of man that waketh, Yet hath not ceased to dream, Is the only fount that maketh The sweet and bitter stream. But the sweet will still be flowing When the bitter stream is dry, And glad music only going On the breezes of the sky. I thank Thee, boundless Giver, That the thoughts Thou givest flow In sounds that like a river All through the darkness go.