This is one of my favorite Thanksgiving hymns. I wish my church still sang it. It tells the whole story of the harvest and Thanksgiving, yet parallels it with God's harvest.
COME YE THANKFUL PEOPLE COME
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.
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.
For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take His harvest home;
From His field shall in that day
All offenses purge away,
Giving angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In His garner evermore.
Even so, Lord, quickly come,
ring Thy final harvest home;
Gather Thou Thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin,
There, forever purified,
In Thy garner to abide;
Come, with all Thine angels come,
Raise the glorious harvest home.
WORDS: Henry Alford, 1844
MUSIC: George J Elvey, 1858
join me at Amy's for more songs!
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