Come Ye Thankful People Come by Leigh Nash

Lyrics

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 as praise to God we yield;
Wheat and tares together sown
Are to 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.

Even so, Lord, quickly come,
Bring 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,
Come, with all thine angels, come,
Come, with all thine angels, come,
Raise the glorious harvest home.