For every soul He filleth
With manna from above,
And over all distilleth
The unction of His love.
Then gather, Christians, gather
To praise with heart and voice
The good Almighty Father
Who biddeth you rejoice :
For He hath turn'd the sadness
Of His children into mirth,
And we will sing with gladness
The harvest-home of earth!
bless the God of harvest, praise Him through the land, Thank Him for His precious gifts, His help, and liberal love : Praise Him for the fields, that have render'd up their riches, And, drest in sunny stubbles, take their sabbath after toil; Praise Him for the close-shorn plains, and uplands lying bare, And meadows, where the sweet-breath'd hay was stack'd in early
Praise Him for the wheat-sheaves, gather'd safely into barn,
And scattering now their golden drops beneath the sounding flail;
Praise Him for the barley-mow, a little hill of sweetness,
Praise Him for the clustering hop, to add its fragrant bitter;
Praise Him for the wholesome root, that fatten'd in the furrow,
Praise Him for the mellow fruits, that bend the groaning bough :
For blessings on thy basket, and for blessings on thy store,
For skill and labour prosper'd well, by gracious suns and showers,
For mercies on the home, and for comforts on the hearth,
O happy heart of this broad land, praise the GOD of harvest!
All ye that have no tongue to praise, we will praise Him for you, And offer on our kindling souls the tribute of your thanks : Trees, and shrubs, and the multitude of herbs, gladdening the eyes with verdure,
For all your leaves and flowers and fruits, we praise the GOD of harvest!
Birds, and beetles in the dust, and insects flitting on the air,
And ye that swim the waters in your scaly coats of mail,
And steers, resting after labour, and timorous flocks afold,
And generous horses, yoked in teams to draw the creaking wains,
For all your lives, and every pleasure solacing that lot,
Your sleep, and food, and animal peace, we praise the God of harvest!
And ye, O some who never pray'd, and therefore cannot praise;
Poor darkling sons of care and toil and unillumined night,
Who rose betimes, but did not ask a blessing on your work,
Who lay down late, but render'd no thank-offering for that blessing
Which all unsought He sent, and all unknown ye gather'd,—
Alas, for you and in your stead, we praise the GOD of harvest!
O ye famine-stricken glens, whose children shriek'd for bread, And noisome alleys of the town, where fever fed on hunger,— O ye children of despair, bitterly bewailing Erin,
Come and join my cheerful praise, for God hath answer'd pray'r :
Praise Him for the better hopes, and signs of better times,
Unity, gratitude, contentment; industry, peace, and plenty;
Bless Him that His chastening rod is now the sceptre of forgiveness,
And in your joy remember well to praise the GOD of harvest!
Come, come along with me, and swell this grateful song,
Ye nobler hearts, old England's own, her children of the soil:
All ye that sow'd the seed in faith, with those who reap'd in joy,
And he that drove the plough afield, with all the scatter'd gleaners,
And maids who milk the lowing kine, and boys that tend the sheep,
And men that load the sluggish wain or neatly thatch the rick,—
Shout and sing for happiness of heart, nor stint your thrilling cheers,
But make the merry farmer's hall resound with glad rejoicings,
And let him spread the hearty feast for joy at harvest-home,
And join this cheerful song of praise, to bless the GOD of harvest!
Again, through every county
Of Britain's happy shores
The Great Creator's bounty
Unstinted plenty pours;
Again to Him returning
In thankfulness we raise,
Our hearts within us burning,
The sacrifice of praise.
O great as is Thy glory,
Thy goodness doth excel!
What harp can hymn the story? What tongue the tale can tell? The boundless breadth of Nature
Is spread beneath Thy throne, And every living creature Is fed by Thee alone!
Rejoice! for overflowing
Is each abundant field;
The LORD has blest the sowing,
The LORD has blest the yield:
The mower has mown double,
The reaper doubly reap'd,
And from the shining stubble
Her head the gleaner heap'd!
Rejoice! for mercy blesses,
And judgment smites no more; The GOD of grace possesses Araunah's threshing-floor : The gains of honest labour
Are shower'd from above,
And neighbour looks on neighbour In happiness and love.
O men of all conditions,
The high, or humbly-born,
Away with low seditions!
Away with lofty scorn!
Mix kindly with each other,-
For GOD has given to all
The common name of brother,
And gladdens great and small.
And Erin! thou that starvest
So patient on thy sod,-
To thee, to thee, this harvest
Is come, the gift of God!
Cheer up, though woes oppress thee;
Be diligent and true;
And, with thy Queen to bless thee,
HER KING SHALL BLESS THEE TOO!
Praise ye the LORD for His bountiful favour,—
O let the people be glad and rejoice!
High shall the hymn, an acceptable savour,
Rise to His throne from the heart and the voice:
For the Great King in His royal redundance
Fills us with blessings enough and to spare,
Fruits in full plenty, and bread in abundance,-
Glory to GOD for His fatherly care!
O all ye nations! from season to season
Kindly commands He the earth that it yield;
Then let us render in right and in reason
Gratitude due for the gifts of the field;
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