Oh, thankful I am for men and women living
Who to themselves know they owe their Thanksgiving;
For they’ve worked hard to make their lives complete
With eyes and hands obeying mental heat—
That furnace of their independent thought
In which the girders of their goals are wrought.
They’re stood up straight—the I-beams of tomorrows—
That rise and rise in pride above all sorrows.
A-gleam with dreams of yesterdays they climb
Up singular, nor need support of brothers,
Or groups or clans or state, or any others!
They answer calls of time with acts sublime.
Oh, thankful I am for men and women living
Who to themselves know they owe their Thanksgiving!