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HARVEST AND THANKSGIVING |
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a All the world is God's own field, Fruit unto His praise to yield;
I Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown:
First the blade, and then the ear,
I 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.
Rev. Henry Alford, 1844 |
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