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Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907.

By “My God, I thank Thee, who hast made”

Adelaide Anne Procter (1825–1864)

MY God, I thank Thee, Who hast made

The earth so bright;

So full of splendour and of joy,

Beauty and light;

So many glorious things are here,

Noble and right.

I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made

Joy to abound;

So many gentle thoughts and deeds

Circling us round;

That in the darkest spot of earth

Some love is found.

I thank Thee more that all our joy

Is touched with pain;

That shadows fall on brightest hours,

That thorns remain;

So that earth’s bliss may be our guide,

And not our chain.

For Thou Who knowest, Lord, how soon

Our weak heart clings,

Hast given us joys, tender and true,

Yet all with wings,

So that we see, gleaming on high,

Diviner things.

I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept

The best in store;

I have enough, yet not too much,

To long for more;

A yearning for a deeper peace

Not known before.

I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls,

Though amply blest,

Can never find, although they seek,

A perfect rest,—

Nor ever shall, until they lean

On Jesus’ breast!