Our Blessings
Ella Wheeler Wilcox 1855 (Janesville) – 1919
Sitting to-day in the sunshine,
That touched me with fingers of love,
I thought of the manifold blessings
God scatters on earth, from above;
And they seemed, as I numbered them over,
Far more than we merit, or need,
And all that we lack is the angels
To make earth a heaven indeed.
The winter brings long, pleasant evenings,
The spring brings a promise of flowers
That summer breathes to fruition,
And autumn brings glad, golden hours.
The woodlands re-echo with music,
The moonbeams ensilver the sea;
There is sunlight and beauty about us,
And the world is as fair as can be.
But mortals are always complaining,
Each one thinks his own a sad lot;
And forgetting the good things about him,
Goes mourning for those he has not.
Instead of the star-spangled heavens,
We look on the dust at our feet;
We drain out the cup that is bitter,
Forgetting the one that is sweet.
We mourn o'er the thorn in the flower,
Forgetting its odour and bloom;
We pass by a garden of blossoms,
To weep o'er the dust of the tomb.
There are blessings unnumbered about us, -
Like the leaves of the forest they grow;
And the fault is our own - not the Giver's -
That we have not an Eden below.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:06 min read
- 55 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | XABACDXD BEXEXFGF XHXHXICI CJXJGKBK |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 1,180 |
Words | 220 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 8, 8 |
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"Our Blessings" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/10745/our-blessings>.
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