"The harvest is come."
1 COME, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of Harvest-home!
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin:
God our Maker doth provide
For our wants to be supplied-
Come to God's own temple, come,
Raise the song of Harvest-home!
2 All the world is God's own field;
Fruit unto His praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown:
First the blade, and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear:
Lord of Harvest, grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.
3 For the Lord our God shall come,'
And shall take His harvest-home:
From His field shall in that day
All offences purge away:
Give His angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In His garner evermore.
4 Even so, Lord, quickly come,
To Thy final Harvest-home;
Gather Thou Thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin;
There for ever purified
In Thy presence to abide :
Come, with all Thine angels, come,
Raise the glorious Harvest-home! Amen.
430 "Who giveth food to all flesh, for His mercy endureth for ever.
1 PRAISE, O praise our God and King,
Hymns of adoration sing;
For His mercies still endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
2 Praise Him that He made the sun
Day by day his course to run;
For His mercies, &c.
3 And the silver moon by night,
Shining with her gentle light;
For His mercies, &c.
4 Praise Him that He gave the rain
To mature the swelling grain;
For His mercies, &c.
5 And hath bid the fruitful field
Crops of precious increase yield;
For His mercies, &c.
6 Praise Him for our harvest-store;
He hath fill'd the garner-floor;
For His mercies, &c.
7 And for richer food than this,
Pledge of everlasting bliss;
For His mercies, &c.
8 Glory to our bounteous King!
Glory let Creation sing!
Glory to the Father, Son,
And blest Spirit, Three in One!
431 "They joy before Thee according to the joy in harvest."
1 LORD of the harvest, Thee we hail;
Thine ancient promise doth not fail;
The varying seasons haste their round,
With goodness all our years are crowned;
Our thanks we pay,
O let our hearts in tune be found.
2 If spring doth wake the song of mirth :
If summer warms the fruitful earth;
When winter sweeps the naked plain,
Or autumn yields its ripened grain,
Still do we sing
Through all their changes Thou dost reign.
3 But chiefly, when Thy liberal hand
Scatters new plenty o'er the land,
When sounds of music fill the air,
As homeward all their treasures bear;
We too will raise
Our hymn of praise,
For we Thy common bounties share.
4 Lord of the harvest, all is Thine;
The rains that fall, the suns that shine,
The seed once hidden in the ground,
The skill that makes our fruits abound:
New every year
New praises from our lips shall sound. Amen.
Times of Scarcity.
432 "Although the fields shall yield no meat.. yet I will rejoice in the Lord."
1 WHAT Our Father does is well:
Blessed truth His children tell!
Though He send, for plenty, want,
Though the harvest-store be scant,
Yet we rest upon His love,
Seeking better things above.
2 What our Father does is well:
Shall the wilful heart rebel?
If a blessing He withhold
In the field, or in the fold,
Is it not Himself to be
All our store eternally?
3 What our Father does is well:
Though He sadden hill and dell,
Upward yet our praises rise
For the strength His Word supplies ;
He has called us sons of God,
Can we murmur at His rod ?
4 What our Father does is well:
May the thought within us dwell;
Though nor milk nor honey flow
In our barren Canaan now,
God can save us in our need,
God can bless us, God can feed.
5 Therefore unto Him we raise
Hymns of glory, songs of praise;
To the Father, and the Son,
And the Spirit, Three in One,
Honour, might, and glory be,
Now and through eternity. Amen.
433 "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in
1 GREAT God, to Thee our songs we raise,
To Thee devote our grateful praise :
O never may our footsteps rove
From Thee the source of truth and love;
But may we still Thy praise proclaim,
And joy in our Redeemer's Name.
2 What though the fig-tree shall decay,
Fruitless the vine shall waste away,
Although the olive shall not bear,
Nor corn produce the ripened ear,
Yet we shall still Thy praise proclaim,
And joy in our Redeemer's Name.
3 Though in our folds no flocks abound,
And in our stalls no herd be found,
Though all the hopes of plenty fail,
Though blighting pestilence prevail;
Yet we shall still Thy praise proclaim,
And joy in our Redeemer's Name. Ámen.
Times of Trouble.
434 "O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive."
1 DREAD Jehovah, God of nations!
From Thy temple in the skies
Hear Thy people's supplications,
Now for their deliverance rise.
2 Lo! with deep contrition turning,
Humbly at Thy feet we bend;
Hear us, fasting, praying, mourning,
Hear us, spare us, and defend.
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