Come, Ye Thankful People

Here are the lyrics of another famous Thanksgiving hymn.  I love this.

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 sorrows 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,

Give His 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 Thine angels, come, Raise the glorious harvest home.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.