The daily star-mirror. (Moscow, Idaho) 1911-1939, 1917-11-23

Times the following verses on
Thanksgiving" which are as unlike
the conventional Thanksgiving poem
In sentiment as they 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 lone well in leaving me
with the humble
whose doom it is to suffer
and bear the burden of power,
and hide their faces and stif1e their sobs
in the dark.
For every throb of their pain
has pulsed in the secret depth of thy
night,
Ind every insult has been gathered
in thy great silence,
And the morrow is theirs.
, Sun, rise upon the bleeding hearts
blossoming in flowers of the morning
and the torchlight revelry of pride
hiding In its own aisles!
There is, of course, nothing new in
dissent from that snug piety that re-
turns thanks because its possessor is
mot as other men are" be it in world
ly possessions, in bodily health, in
mental equipment or even in moral
inheritance. Robert Burns long ago
satirized one aspect of such self-com-
placence in 1.-THE Selkirk Grace:
Some hae meat and Gamma eat,
And some wad eat that want it,;
But we haze meat and we can eat,
And sac the Lord be thankit,
William Blake, in one of lose
quantity phrased little poems of his
that have almost the flavor of esoteric
wisdom, declares:
all the riches of this world
May be gifts from the devil and earthly
kings,
should suspect that I worshiped the
devil
If I thanked my God for worldly things.
The countless gold of "a merry heart,
The rubies and pearls of a loving eye,
The ideal man never can bring to the
mart,
Nor the cunning hoard up in his treas
ury.
And in recent years Edmund Vance
a poet of whom Cleveland, the
sixth city," should be proud, has
sung:
thank thee. Yea, in the even tone
IF those who are glad of the goods they
own.
We thank thee. Yea, that thou hast pre-
ferred
blessed US more than the common
herd.
We thank thee, part with the hearts in
~tention,
But most, let us own, with the lips con-
vention.
We thank thee" Lord! What a selfish
prayer!
a beggar's breast is bare!
hanks that our own full feast is spread
While another creature is lacking bread!
hanks that our full fed blood runs warm,
While a starveling baby breasts the
storm!
There is certainly no faint of Tar
life or Pecksnif in the reason that
Ernest Henley gives for
lankfulness in his "Invictus,'' but it
as something of pharisaical arro-
ance Notwithstanding:
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
/ thank whatever gods may be ]
For my un~conquerable SOU. I
Algernon Charles Swinburne, in
lue Odrueu OIL ITOSerplno (IrOm =
hich, by the way, Henley seems to )
borrowed his whatever gods !
ay be"), expresses a sentiment that :
certain moods has an appeal to 9
any =
From too much love of living, .
From hope and fear set free, q
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives forever, v
That dead men rise up never, !
That even the weariest river y
Winds somewhere safe to sea. u
But, after all, there is a healthier l
peal than Swinburne's, and an ap- =
to a greater number of normal
IN and women, in such fine odes as u
at which the late Hezekiah Butter !"
nth wroue in celebration of the first Il
thanksgiving in Boston HarbOr": =
he Arabella leads the song :"
The Mayfiower sings below,
hat erst the Pilgrims bore along P
The Plymouth reefs of snow, &c
h, never be that psalm forgot =,
rose DER Boston Bay, III
Winthrop sang, and Endicott O'
And Saltonstall that day: re
D--t = - - T--1