The Akathist of Thanksgiving
Priest
O Lord, how lovely it is to be your guest. Breeze full of scents — mountains reaching to the skies — waters like a boundless mirror, reflecting the sun’s golden rays and the scudding clouds. All nature murmurs mysteriously, breathing depths of tenderness. Birds and beasts bear the imprint of your love.
How pleasant is our stay with you on earth: It is a joy to be your guest.
Choir and Congregation
Glory to you for the feast-day of life,
Glory to you for the perfume of lilies and roses,
Glory to you for each taste of berry and fruit,
Glory to you for the sparkling silver of early morning dew,
Glory to you for each smiling, peaceful awakening,
Glory to you for eternal life in us, a messenger of heaven,
Glory to you, O God, from age to age.
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