Classic Poem

I thank thee, Lord, for precious things
Which thou into my life hast brought;
More gratefully my spirit sings
Its thanks for all I yet have not.

How fair thy world to me has been!
How dear the friends who breathe its air!
But who can guess what waits within
Thine opening realms, thy worlds more fair?

At friendly shores, at peaceful isles
I touch, but may not long delay;
Where thy flushed East with mystery smiles
I steer into the unrisen day.

For veils of hope before thee drawn,
For mists that hint the immortal coast
Hid in thy farthest, faintest dawn, —
My God, for these I thank thee most.

Joy, joy! to see, from every shore
Whereon my step makes pressure fond,
Thy sunrise reddening still before, —
More light, more love, more life beyond!