Thanksgiving Poems Page 2
More Thanksgiving poems on page 2.
Thanksgiving Poems /
Thanksgiving Poems Page 2
- related: Happy Thanksgiving Quotes
A thanksgiving poem written from a boy's perspective on how they will celebrate this Thanksgiving Day!
Looking at Thanksgiving through a child's eyes reflects a different scene than an adult, however,
the one common theme is being thankful!
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The Boy's Thanksgiving Day
Poet: John Franklin Bair
Thanksgiving Day, Thanksgiving Day!
We boys are happy, free and gay;
No school today, and Oh, the sun
Is shining bright, now for some fun;
The air's just cool enough today
For boys to romp and race and play,
We'll roam the meadows, climb the hill,
With laughter we the air will fill.
Kind mother will prepare a roast,
A turkey gobbler, none can boast
Of better grub than our's today,
When we come rushing in from play,
And see old gobbler done so brown,
Upon the table, we'll sit down
And smack our lips and go um, um,
And say, Please mother, give me some.
Then, while we eat, mother will say,
Boys, we must not forget today,
That there are poor who cannot eat
Such meals as ours, that we must treat
All such with kindness, try to make
Them happy, then we say, We'll take
Some good things to old Aunty Moore,
For she is sick and very poor.
Then, after we have ate our fill,
With basket filled, across the hill
We go and soon we reach the door
Of the small house of Aunty Moore.
It is a treat to see her face
Light up with joy when we boys place
The good things all before her there,
And hear her say, "Well, I declare!"
Then out again to run about,
With merry laughter, cheer and shout;
O we just have such splendid sport,
The day for us is much too short;
But ev'ning comes at last, and so,
All hungry, we to supper go,
Then soon all sound asleep are we,
The day is now but memory.
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Going To Grandmother's
A Thanksgiving Day Song
Poet: Emilie Poulsson
Hurrah! hurrah! for here’s the sleigh,
That comes to take us all away,
To spend the glad Thanksgiving Day
At Grandmother’s house in the country.
Jump in, jump in, a merry load
When all within the sleigh are stowed,
We speed along the snowy road
To Grandmother’s house in the country.
The sleighbells ring, we shout and cheer,
How white and still the fields appear!
Now surely we are drawing near
To Grandmother’s house in the country.
Yes, there it is - the dear old place
And there is Grandpa’s beaming face!
Now whoa! and out we jump and race,
To Grandmother’s house in the country.
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On This Happy Feast-Day
Poet: Emilie Poulsson
On this happy feast day
Joyously we sing
Thanks for all the plenty
That the harvests bring.
On this happy feast day
From our hearts shall come
Thanks for love and friendship,
Family and home.
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Thanksgiving For Harvest
Poet: Emilie Poulsson
The harvest is in!
The cellar and bin
Are stored with the fruits of the earth;
So let us be gay On Thanksgiving Day,
And keep it with feasting and mirth.
For all the good things
The rich Autumn brings,
For all that the harvest can show,
Most thankful we’ll be,
Dear Father, to Thee,
Whose power and love made them grow.
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Again The Rounded Year
A Thanksgiving Day Song
Poet: Hezekiah Butterworth
Again the rounded year has brought
Its bloom and harvest glory,
And every smiling Sabbath taught
To us the Gospel story.
Again our voices join in song,
And bring their glad thanksgiving,
To Thee, to whom all years belong,
To Thee, the Ever-Living.
We meet with gladness on each lip,
And kindly warmth of greeting,
And, in Thy boundless fellowship,
Each heart to heart is beating.
And for this day, and for this hour,
We bring our glad thanksgiving,
To Thee, the ever gracious Power,
To Thee, the Ever-Living.
How oft has lighted every brow
To see Thy love upspringing!
And some who joined our songs, are now
Amid the angels singing.
But friends below and friends above
Unite in glad thanksgiving
To Thee, whom all the children love,
To Thee, the Ever-Living.
Thy power in prayer we oft have felt,
Thy sympathy most tender,
And seemed to see, as we have knelt,
Thy face in veiled splendor.
For all these joys of Paradise,
We bring our glad thanksgiving,
To Thee, who every good supplies,
To Thee, the Ever-Living.
So may we join from year to year,
Thy goodness ever singing,
And, after faithful service, hear
The bells of glory ringing.
Then, safe with Thee, again we’ll raise
Our voices in thanksgiving
To Thee, in more exalted praise
To Thee, the Ever-Living.
....
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