Harvest
Hymn 223.
Come, ye thankful people, come
¶Choose your part under Play voice to hear it alone, or let all four sound and sing yours. Concert key moves the whole hymn up or down to suit your voice.
Opening the music…
The Words
1Come, 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!
2What is earth but God's own field,
Fruit unto His praise to yield?
Wheat and tares therein are sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
Ripening with a wondrous power,
Till the final Harvest-Hour:
Grant, O Lord of Life, that we
Holy grain and pure may be.
3For we know that Thou wilt come,
And wilt take Thy people home;
From Thy field wilt purge away
All that doth offend, that day,
And Thine Angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast,
But the fruitful ears to store
In Thy Garner evermore.
4Come then, Lord of mercy, come,
Bid us sing Thy Harvest-Home!
Let Thy Saints be gathered in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin;
All upon the golden floor
Praising Thee for evermore:
Come, with thousand Angels, come:
Bid us sing Thy Harvest-Home!
The Page It Came From
Where It Comes From
Read note by note from Hymns Ancient and Modern (Novello, London, 1861), and checked against the printed page. See that page in the scan of the book at the Internet Archive: open the page page 2.
First published in London in 1861. Every tune, harmony and text in it was printed by 1861, so all its writers died long before 1966, and the book is out of copyright in India and the USA.