  Supremest Life and Lord of All, I bring my thanks to thee; Not for the health that does not fail, And wings me over land and sea; Not for this body's pearl and rose, And radiance made sure By thine enduring life that flows In sky-print swift and pure; Not for the thought whose glowing power Glides far, eternal, free, And surging back in thy full hour Bears the wide world to me; Not for the friends whose presence is The warm, sweet heart of things Where leans the body for the kiss That gives the soul its wings; The little feet that run, And make the earth a fitter thing For thee to look upon; Not for mine ease within my door, My roof when rains beat strong, My bed, my fire, my food in store, My book when nights are long; But, Lord, I know where on lone sands A leper rots and cries; Find thou my offering in his hands, My worship in his eyes. As thou dost give to him, thy least, Thou givest unto me; As he is fed I make my feast, And lift my thanks to thee. |
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