Thine are all the gifts, O God!
Thine the broken bread;
Let the naked feet be shod,
And the starving fed.
Let Thy children, by Thy grace,
Give as they abound,
Till the poor have breathing-space,
And the lost are found.
Wiser than the miser's hoards
Is the giver's choice;
Sweeter than the song of birds
Is the thankful voice.
Welcome smiles on faces sad
As the flowers of spring;
Let the tender hearts be glad
With the joy they bring.
Happier for their pity's sake
Make their sports and plays,
And from lips of childhood take
Thy perfected praise