For All These Things
by Reginald Vincent Holmes
"What am I thankful for this day?"
I heard a poor man softly say.
"A chance to earn my daily bread;
A place each night to lay my head.
"A soft, white hand to ease my care;
A child's small voice to rise in prayer;
A special friend, both kind and true
To help me right the wrongs I do.
"To dwell where tyrants fear to tread;
Where freedom's flag floats overhead;
The faith to ask on bended knee,
God, may all men be rich like me."
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