Talk City: India

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HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL IN THE INDIA ROOM!

Oh, Heavenly Father,
We thank Thee for food and remember the hungry.
We thank Thee for health and remember the sick.
We thank Thee for freedom and remember the enslaved.
May these remembrances stir us to service,
That Thy gifts to us may be used for others. Amen!

A Thanksgiving to God for His House

LORD, Thou hast given me a cell
          Wherein to dwell;
An little house, whose humble roof
          Is weather-proof;
Under the spars of which I lie
          Both soft and dry;
Where Thou my chamber for to ward
          Hast set a guard
Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep
          Me, while I sleep.
Low is my porch as is my fate,
          Both void of state;
And yet the threshold of my door
           Is worn by'th' poor,
Who thither come, and freely get
          Good words, or meat;
Like as my parlour, so my hall
          And kitchen's small;
A little butterie and therein
          A little bin,
Which keeps my little loaf of bread
          Unchipp'd, unflay'd;
Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar
          Make me a fire,
Close by whose living coal I sit,
          And glow like it.
Lord, I confess too, when I dine,
          The pulse is Thine,
And all those other bits that be
          There plac'd by Thee;
The worts, the purslain, and the mess
          Of water-cress,
Which of Thy kindness Thou hast sent;
          And my content
Makes those, and my beloved beet,
          To be more sweet.
'Tis Thou that crown'st my glitt'ring hearth
          With guiltless mirth;
And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink,
          Spic'd to the brink.
Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand
          That soils my land;
And giv'st me, for my bushel sown,
          Twice ten for one;
Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay
          Her egg each day;
Besides my healthful ewes to bear
          Me twins each year;
The while the conduits of my kine
          Run cream (for wine.)
All these, and better Thou dost send
          Me, to this end,
That I should render, for my part,
          A thankful heart,
Which, fir'd with incense, I resign
          As wholly Thine;
But the acceptance, that must be,
          My Christ, by Thee.

Robert Herrick

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