Come Ye Thankful People Come
Henry Alford
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.
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.
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.
4 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.
