—Marianne Farningham.

I THANK thee, Father, for the summer-time,
The golden days of glory and delight,—
The days when the glad year is in its prime,
Warmed by Thy love, and by Thy smile made bright.

And for the peaceful armies of the flowers
That hang their banners out above the sod,
Saluting with sweet scents the passing hours,
And blessing me, I thank Thee, O my God.

I thank Thee for the melody of rills,
And for the glad bird-music in the air,
And for the echoes of the purple hills,
And children’s voices at their evening prayer.

I thank Thee for the rush of mountain streams,
And for the beauty of the quiet lake,
And for the generous warmth of dancing beams,
And for a world grown happy for thy sake.

I thank Thee for the cool, calm, summer sea,
The playful ripple of the gentle waves,
And for huge billows tossing restlessly,
And for their music in the moss-lined caves.

I thank Thee for the long, sweet days of light,
And for the gloaming, with its hues sublime;
I thank Thee for past seasons of delight
That came to me with the glad summer-time.


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