We praise Thee, God, for har­vests earned,
The fruits of la­bor gar­nered in;
But praise Thee more for soil un­turned
From which the yield is yet to win!

We praise Thee for the har­bor’s lee,
And moor­ings safe in wa­ters still;
But more for leagues of op­en sea,
Where fa­vor­ing gales our can­vas fill.

We praise Thee for the con­flicts won,
For cap­tured strong­holds of the foe;
But more for fields where­on the sun
Lights us when we to bat­tle go.

We praise Thee for life’s ga­thered gains,
And bless­ings in our cup that brim;
But more for pledge of what re­mains
Past the ho­ri­zon’s ut­most rim!