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Short poem

Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt (1836-1919)

A New Thanksgiving

              1For war, plague, pestilence, flood, famine, fire,
              2    For Christ discrowned, for false gods set on high;
              3For fools, whose hands must have their hearts' desire,
              4    We thank Thee - in the darkness - and so die.

              5For shipwreck: Oh, the sob of strangling seas! -
              6    No matter. For the snake that charms the dove;
              7And (is it not the bitterest of all these?)
              8    We thank Thee - in our blind faith - even for Love.

              9For breaking hearts; for all that breaks the heart;
            10    For Death, the one thing after all the rest,
            11We thank Thee, O our Father! Thou who art,
            12    And wast, and shalt be -- knowing these are best.

Online text copyright © 2004, Ian Lancashire for the Department of English, University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.

Original text: Palace-Burner: The Selected Poetry of Sarah Piatt, ed. Paula Bennett (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2001): 154.
Publication date note: Thanksgiving issue, The Independent (1910).
RPO poem editor: Ian Lancashire
RP edition: 2004
Recent editing: 1:2004/4/15

Form: quatrains
Rhyme: abab

Other poems by Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt