[MUSIC - "COME, YE THANKFUL PEOPLE"]
(SINGING) 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.
Grant, O Harvest Lord, 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 to thy final harvest home; gather
thou thy people in, free from sorrow, free from sin, there,
forever purified, in thy presence to abide; come, with
all thy angels, come, raise the glorious harvest home!
Raise the glorious harvest home!