Once again our glad thanksgivings
   Rise before our Father's throne
As we try to count the blessings
Of the year so swiftly flown,
As we trace the wondrous working
Of His wisdom, power, and love,
And united our "Holy, holy,"
   With the seraphim above.

He has blessed our favored country
   With a free and bounteous hand,
Peace and plenty in our borders,
   Liberty through all our land.
And although our sins and follies
   Oft provoked Him to His face,
Mercy still restrains His judgments
   And prolongs our day of grace.

As we gather 'round our firesides
   On this new Thanksgiving Day,
Time would fail to count the blessings
   That have followed all our way;
Grace sufficient, help and healing.
   Prayer oft answered at our call,
And the best of all our blessings,
   Christ Himself our all in all.

While we love to count our blessings,
   Grateful for the year that's gone,
Faith would sweep a wider vision,
   Hope would gaze yet farther on;
For the signals all around us
   Seem with one accord to say,
Christ is coming soon to bring us
   Earth's last, best Thanksgiving Day!

       A. B. Simpson
       October 1973 "The Gospel Standard"