Who from our mother's arms
Hath bless'd us on our way
With countless gifts of love,
And still is ours to-day.
O may this bounteous God
Through all our life be near us,
With ever joyful hearts
And blessed peace to cheer us;
And keep us in his grace,
And guide us when perplex'd,
And free us from all ills
In this world and the next.
All praise and thanks to God
The Father now be given,
The Son, and him who reigns
With them in highest heaven,
The One eternal God,
Whom earth and heaven adore,
For thus it was, is now,
And shall be evermore.
47 I will joy in the God of my salvation.-Hab. iii. 18. [7s.
1 PRAISE to God, immortal praise,
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous source of every joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ.
2 For the blessings of the field;
For the stores the gardens yield;
For the vine's exalted juice;
For the generous olive's use.
3 Flocks that whiten all the plain;
Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain;
Clouds that drop their fattening dews;
Suns that temperate warmth diffuse:
4 All that spring with bounteous hand
Scatters o'er the smiling land,
All that liberal autumn pours
From her rich o'erflowing stores:
5 These to thee, my God, we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow;
And for these my soul shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
6 Yet, should rising whirlwinds tear
From its stem the ripening ear;
Should the fig-tree's blasted shoot
Drop her green untimely fruit;
7 Should the vine put forth no more,
Nor the olive yield her store;
Though the sickening flocks should fall,
And the herds desert the stall;
8 Yet to thee my soul should raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise;
And when every blessing's flown,
Love thee for thyself alone.1
48 Who giveth food to all flesh; for his mercy endureth [7s. for ever.-Ps. cxxxvi. 25.
1 PRAISE, O praise our God and King;
Hymns of adoration sing;
For his mercies still endure
Ever faithful, ever sure.
2 Praise him that he made the sun
Day by day his course to run:
For his mercies still endure
Ever faithful, ever sure :
3 And the silver moon by night,
Shining with her gentle light;
For his mercies still endure
Ever faithful, ever sure.
4 Praise him that he gave the rain
To mature the swelling grain;
For his mercies still endure
Ever faithful, ever sure:
5 And hath bid the fruitful field
Crops of precious increase yield;
For his mercies still endure
Ever faithful, ever sure.
6 Praise him for our harvest-store,
He hath fill'd the garner-floor;
For his mercies still endure
Ever faithful, ever sure:
7 And for richer food than this,
Pledge of everlasting bliss;
For his mercies still endure
Ever faithful, ever sure.
8 Glory to our bounteous King;
Glory let creation sing;
Glory to the Father, Son,
And Blest Spirit, Three in One.
They joy before thee according to the joy in
harvest.-Isa. ix. 3.
1 LORD of the harvest, thee we hail;
Thine ancient promise doth not fail;
The varying seasons haste their round,
With goodness all our years are crown'd;
Our thanks we pay,
O let our hearts in tune be found.
2 If spring doth wake the song of mirth;
If summer warms the fruitful earth;
When winter sweeps the naked plain,
Or autumn yields its ripen'd grain,
Still do we sing
Through all their changes thou dost reign. 3 But chiefly, when thy liberal hand Scatters new plenty o'er the land, When sounds of music fill the air, As homeward all their treasures bear;
We too will raise
Our hymn of praise,
For we thy common bounties share.
4 Lord of the harvest, all is thine :
The rains that fall, the suns that shine,
The seed once hidden in the ground,
The skill that makes our fruits abound:
New every year
New praises from our lips shall sound.s
50 While the earth remaineth, seed time and harvest [C.M. shall not cease.-Gen. viii. 22.
1 FOUNTAIN of mercy, God of love,
How rich thy bounties are!
The rolling seasons as they move,
Proclaim thy constant care.
2 When in the bosom of the earth
The sower hid the grain,
Thy goodness mark'd its secret birth,
And sent the early rain.
3 The spring's sweet influence was thine,
The plants in beauty grew;
Thou gav'st refulgent suns to shine,
And mild refreshing dew.
4 These various mercies from above
Matured the swelling grain;
A yellow harvest crowns thy love,
And plenty fills the plain.
5 Seed-time and harvest, Lord, alone
Thou dost on man bestow;
Let him not then forget to own
From whom his blessings flow.
6 Fountain of love, our praise is thine;
To thee our songs we'll raise,
And all created nature join
In sweet harmonious praise.
51 He shall come again with rejoicing, bringing his
sheaves with him.-Ps. cxxvi. 6.
1 COME, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of Harvest-home:
All is safely gather'd 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 offences 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 for ever purified,
In thy presence to abide :
Come, with all thine angels, come,
Raise the glorious Harvest-home.1
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