Today is Wednesday, November 25th, 2009; Karen's Korner #1703

Come, Ye Thankful People Come
By Henry Alford, 1844
 
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 supplies;
come to God's own temple come,
raise the song of harvest home.
 
All the world is God's own field,
fruit as praise to God we yield;
wheat and tares together sown
are to joy or sorrows grown;
first the blade and then the ear,
then the full corn shall appear;
Lord of harvest, grant that we
whole-some grain and pure may be.
 
For the Lord our God shall come,
and shall take the harvest home;
from the 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 the garner evermore.
 
Even so, Lord, quickly come,
bring thy final harvest home;
gather thou they people in,
free from sorrow, free from sin,
there, forever purified,
in thy presence to abide;
come, with all thine angels come,
raise the glorious harvest home.
 
~~

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