Come, ye thankful people, come,

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    CGS No.: 
    371

    Verse 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!

    Verse 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.

    Verse 3
    For the Lord our God shall come,
    And shall take His harvest home;
    From His field shall in that day
    All offenses 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.

    Verse 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!