GRAINS OF GOLD
OUR COMMONPLACE MERCIES. Forgive us who live by thy bounty That often our lives are so bare Of the garland of praise that should render All votive and fragrant each prayer. Dear Lord, in the sharpness of trouble We cry from the depths to Thy throne ! In the long days of gladness and beauty Take thou the glad hearts as Thine own. Oh, common are sunshine and flowers, And common are raindrop and dew, And the gay little footsteps of children, And common the love that holds true. So, Lord, for our commonplace mercies, That straight from thy hand are bestowed, We are fain to uplift our thanksgivings — Take, Lord, the long debt we have owed!
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZT19090311.2.4.2
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New Zealand Tablet, Volume 11, Issue 10, 11 March 1909, Page 363
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119GRAINS OF GOLD New Zealand Tablet, Volume 11, Issue 10, 11 March 1909, Page 363
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