Free trader-journal. (Ottawa, Ill.) 1916-1920, 1917-11-28
As SUNG BY POETS
Old and New Thanksgiving
Sentiments Worth
Recording.
! ABiNDRANATH TAGORE. the

n ABiNDRANATH TAGORE. the
r. Hlndu-EngliSh poet. recently
contributed To the London
Times the following verses ON
Thanksgiving which are as unlike
The conventional Thanksgiving poem
In sentiment MS the" are in form:
Those who walk on the path Of pride
crushing the lowly life under their tread.
spreading their footprints in blood
upon the tender green OF thy earth
Let them rejoice. and thank thee. Lord.
for the day is theirs.
But thou hast done well Ia leaving me
with the humble
whose doom II Is to suffer
and bear the burden OF power,
ana hide their faces and stfle their sobs
In the dark
For every throb of their pain
mas pulsed In the secret depth VI thy
night,
and every insult has been gathered
In thy great silence.
And the morrow is theirs
sun. rise upon the bleeding hearts
blossoming In blowers OF the morning
and the torchhght reyelry Of pride
hiding In it, own aisles,
There is, of course. nothing new in
dissent from that SNUG piety that re-
turns thanks because It's possessor is
mot as other men are be ii in world
~ possessions in bodily health. In
mental equipment or even In neral
inheritance. Robert Burns long ago
satlriZed one aspect Of such self-com-
placence in "The Selkirk Grace:
Some hae meat and Gamma eat.
Ana some wad eat that want IT,
But we hae meat and We can eat,
And sac the Lord be thankit.
William Blake, in one Of those
quainily phrased little poems of his
that have almost the flavor Of esoterle
wisdom, declares:
Since AL the riches OF this world
May be gifts from the devil and earthly
kings
! should suspect that worsliped the
devil
II thanked my God for worldly things
The countless gold Of merry heart.
Inc rubies and pearls OF loving eve
me ideal man never can bring TO the
mart,
Nor the cunning hoard up In his treas
ury
And IN recent years Edmund Vance
Cooke Il poet of whom Cleveland, the
sixth city, should be proud, has
sung;
We thank thee. Yea. in the even tone
or those WHO ATE glad Of the goods they
own.
We thank thee. Yea. that thou hast pre-
telred
And blessed us more than the common
herd
We thank thee part with the hearts in.
But most, let us own, with the lips con.
We thank thee" Lord' What a selfish
prayer!
Thanks-w while Il heggar's breast ls bare,
THANKS that our own fun feast Is spread
Whle another creature ~ lacking bread
Thanks that oar full fed blood runs warm
While starveng baby breasts the
storm.
There is certainly no faint of Tar.
tune or Pecksnln In the reason that
William Ernest Henley gives for
lhanktulncSs in his "lnyctus," but 1t
has something Of phaisalcal AFRO
gance notwithstanding:
Out OF the night that covers me,
Hl"rk aa the pit from pole 10 pole,
| thank whatever gods may be
FOR nay unconQutrable soul
Airernon Charles Swlnburnc, in
THE Garden Of Proscrplne' Qrom
which, by The way, Henley seems to
have borrowed his whatever gods
may be'), expresses Il sentiment that
IN certain moods has an appeal to
many men:
From too much love Of living,
FROM hope ana fear yet free,
We thank with BRIEF thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life Hives forever
Ihat dead men rise up never,
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe 10 sen.
But. after all, there Is healthier
appeal than SwInburnc's, and an an.
peal To greater number Of normal
men ana women. IN such fine odes us
thai which the late Iezekiuh Butter.
worth wrote In celebration Of the first
thanksgiving IN Boston Hnrbor".
The Arabella leads the song
The M0yilower sings below
That erst the Pilgrims bore along
The Plymouth reefs OF snow,
Oh never be that psalm forgot
Tlrit rose DER Boston Bay.
When winthrop sang, and Endicott
And Saltonstall that day.
Praise ye the Lord with feryent iipsi
Praise ye the Lord today
Ana praise arose from all the shps
Lake prayers In Yarmouth Bay.