Come, Ye Thankful People Come

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 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 the harvest! grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord our God shall come,
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 his garner evermore.

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,
Raise the glorious harvest home.

Sir George J. Elvey (1816-1893), wrote the
music to this Thanksgiving hymn about 1844.

The lyrics are by Henry Alford (1810-1871)

Wishing you and your loved ones
Thanksgiving Blessings..

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Jnor
1999