Thanksgiving Verse by J.K. Foran

Poetry for this Thanksgiving Day by J.K. Foran, KC, Lit D, LL D., from the posthumously published collection A Garland: Lectures and Poems (Montreal: Gazette, [1931]).

THANKSGIVING 

      For the sound of waters rushing

            In bubbling beads of light;

      For the fleets of snow-white lilies

            Firm anchored out of sight;

      For the reeds among the eddies,

            The crystals on the clod;

      For the flowing of the rivers,

            I thank Thee, O my God!

      For the rosebud’s break of beauty,

            Along the toiler’s way;

      For the violet’s eye that opens

            To bless the new born day;

      For the bare twigs that in summer

            Bloom like the prophet’s rod;

      For the blossomings of flowers,

            I thank Thee, O my God!

      For the lifting up of mountains

            In brightness and in dread;

      For the peaks where snow and sunshine

            Alone have dared to tread;

      For the dark and silent gorges

            Whence mighty cedars nod;

      For the majesty of mountains,

            I thank Thee, O my God!

      For the splendor of the sunsets,

            Vast mirrored on the sea;

      For the gold-fringed clouds that curtain

            Heaven’s inner majesty;
      For the molten bars of twilight,

            Where thought leans glad, yet awed;

      For the glory of the sunlight,

            I thank Thee, O my God!

      For the earth and all its beauty,

            The sky and all its light;

      For the dim and soothing shadows

            That rest the dazzling sight;

      For unfading fields and prairies,

            Where sense in vain has trod;

      For the world’s exhaustless beauty,

            I thank Thee, O my God!

      For an eye of inward seeing,

            A soul to know and love;

      For these common aspirations

            That our high heirship prove;

      For the hearts that bless each other

            Beneath Thy smile, Thy rod;

      For the amaranth saved from Eden,

            I thank Thee, O my God!

      For the hidden scroll, o’erwritten

            With one dear name adored;

      For the heavenly in the human,

            The Spirit in the Word;

      For the tokens of Thy presence

            Within, above, abroad;

      For Thine own great gift of being,

            I thank Thee, O my God.

Sadly, I don't own a copy of A Garland. Happily, it can be read online at Bibliothèque et Archives nationales du Québec through this link. Their copy was a gift to the Bibliothèque de la ville de Montréal from Dusty Bookcase favourite Ethel Ursula Foran, Dr Foran's daughter.

Related posts:

Dr  Logan's Ode for Thanksgiving Day
An Old Thanksgiving Ode by James McIntyre

Jean Blewett's 'Thanksgiving Song'

Jean Blewett's 'Thanksgiving Prayer'

Edna Jaques' Award-Winning Thanksgiving Verse

Thanksgiving in the Midst of War
'October in War Time'

A Thanksgiving Hymn

Thanksgiving Day Advice

'Thanksgiving Morn'

An Expatriate Canadian Poet's New England Thanksgiving

for Canadian Thanksgiving

Dustiest Bookcase: S is for Slater (not Mitchell)

The Dustiest Bookcase:

Short pieces on books I've always meant to review (but haven't).

The Water-Drinker

Patrick Slater [John Mitchell]
Toronto: Thomas Allen, 1937
149 pages

I read Patrick Slater's The Yellow Briar a few months after moving to southern Ontario. Our new neighbours and friends had read it in school. Another friend, Michael Gnarowski, was preparing a new edition for Dundurn's Voyageur Classics series. Copies were plentiful in our newly adopted corner of the country. It took little effort, little time, and less than thirty dollars to amass a nice little collection of various editions. The new Dundurn edition set me back twice as much as the others combined. 

l-r: the 1933 Thomas Allen edition, the 1963 Macmillan edition, the 1966 Macmillan edition, the 1970 Macmillan edition, and the 2009 Dundurn edition.

My lazy pursuit was encouraged by clippings left by former owners. These were found between the pages of one of the two Thomas Allen copies I own:

I really liked The Yellow Briar, but can't quite remember why. Wish I'd posted a review on this blog. I didn't because these new neighbours and friends were so familiar with he book; it didn't seem neglected or forgotten. As years passed, I realized that the offspring of our new friends and neighbours – closer to me in age – knew nothing of Patrick Slater and The Yellow Briar. 

Slater wasn't really Patrick Slater but a lawyer John Mitchell. The Yellow Briar, sold by the author and his publisher as a memoir, was a hoax. As hinted in the headline of a clipping above – 'Author Who Jailed Self In Spite of Crown Dies' – Mitchell was a troubled soul. This photograph suggests as much:
 

The image comes from yet another clipping – this one from Saturday Night – which I found in the pages of my copy of The Water-Drinker.

Published four years after The Yellow Briar, The Water-Drinker is a collection of verse coming from a man who'd previously published only prose. It begins with a twenty-one-page introduction in which Slater/Mitchell offers a mea culpa, before expounding on literature, poetry, growing old, and purse picking. The thirteen poems that follow are interrupted by nine colour plates featuring paintings by F.H. Varley, Paul Kane, Cornelius Krieghoff, and Maurice Cullen, amongst others. A tenth illustration – uncredited – appears only in black and white:

Might it be by the poet himself?

My copy, purchased in 2010, once belonged to Louis Blake Duff (1 January 1878 - 29 August 1959). It appears to have been a birthday gift, presented on his sixtieth birthday:

Duff was the author of several books and chapbooks, most having to do with the history of southern Ontario. A respected local historian, his death was noted by William Arthur Deacon in the pages of the Globe & Mail:

Dr. Duff deplored what he called the booklessness of Canadians, their disinterest in literature. As a passionate bibliophile – his own library contained 10,000 volumes – he could not help but be depressed by this characteristic which he considered a national trait.

My copy of The Water-Drinker was one of Dr Duff's 10,000 volumes.

It set me back all of $2.50.

Six Forgotten Novelists at the Atwater Library

This coming Thursday – September 30 – I'll be speaking on "Forgotten Montreal Novelists" at the Atwater Library.

Forgotten Montreal novelists? Where to begin! I've selected six. I'll be talking about their lives with a focus on a novel by each.

These being strange days, I won't be appearing in person. Wish I could. The good thing is that you can watch through Zoom. The link to register is here.

C'est gratuit!