This is the good, gladsome time of Thanksgiving
When we see life thro’ glasses of Beauty,
And man from the pure love of living
Worships more from delight than from duty.
All the woods have grown golden and mellow,
And their sere leaves blow wide thro’ the weather,
Ever tinting the fields read and yellow,
Or descending the hillsides together.
Fetch a flagon of ruby-red cider,
Sun-brewed in wide orchards lang syne,
And well drink to old Time, the Divider,
In the primest of Nature’s own wine.
Now the streams wind thro’ veilings of vapor
And a soft Indian Summer is nigh,
Her piece-pipe alight from yon taper
Of stars in a lavender sky!
O, the turkeys are royally roasting
In thousands of ovens today,
And we know, without bluster or boasting,
In each home there’s a feast under way.
Every haunt of the Ford Car is merry
In the bounty of tables well-laden,
For ‘tis there that the Good Fortune fairy
Is truly a homekeeping maiden!
Wheresoever the Ford Model T
Stands expectant by driveway or lawn,
The chance-passing hobo can see
Fun, feasting and frolic are on;
For the profits of automobiling
Both in health and in pocket produced
Have climaxed this day of good feeling
With a bird from Prosperity’s roost!
Since “Ford Times are evidence of Best Times,†then surely
These verses appropriate are,
Where the Motor muse, smiling demurely,
Ties her song to a Model T car.
Kind devoirs, then, to dealers and patrons,
In each province or country or clime,
And e’en to the Ford maids and matrons,
Be our thanks in this tribute of rhyme!
– Ford Times. Vol. 5, No. 2. November 1911.
