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If I had been
a Pilgrim child
Among the fields and forests
wild
Where deer and turkey used to roam,
A cabin would have been my home
With
fireplace and earthen floor
And bearskins
hanging at the door.
I would have gathered
berries bright
For candles fragrantly alight,
And dug for clams and picked the corn
And laid the table smooth and worn.
Or
hunted nuts hard-shelled and good
And helped
in any way I could,
With time to laugh and
play and run
When Indian children came for
fun.
And on the first Thanksgiving Day
I
would have met with friends to pray
And
thank the Lord for all his care
In keeping
us together there.
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First
Thanksgiving 
