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.
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;
grant, O harvest Lord, that we
wholesome grain and pure may be.
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 the garner evermore.
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.