Henry Alford - Come, Ye Thankful People, Come lyrics

[Verse 1] 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 [Verse 2] All the world is God's own field 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; Lord of harvest, grant that we Wholesome grain and pure may be [Verse 3] For the Lord our God shall come And shall take His harvest home; From His field shall in that day All offenses purge away Giving angels charge at last In the fire the tares to cast; But the fruitful ears to store In His garner evermore [Verse 4] 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 garner to abide; Come, with all Thine angels come Raise the glorious harvest home