Come, ALL thankful people, come,
SING the song of harvest home;
all is safely gathered in;
NOW MAY winter storms begin.
God our Maker DOES provide
for our wants to be supplied;
come to God's own temple, come,
SING the song of harvest home.
All the world is God's own field,
or: We ourselves are God's own field,
fruit as praise to God we yield;
wheat and WEEDS together sown
are to joy or sorrow grown;
first the LEAF and then the BLOOM,
then the KERNEL’S RIPE PERFUME;
Lord of harvest, grant that we
wholesome grain and pure may be.
For the Lord our God shall come,
and shall take the harvest home;
from the field shall in that day
all offenses purge away,
giving angels charge at last
in the fire the WEEDS to cast;
but the fruitful GRAIN to store
in HIS MANSIONS evermore.
Even so, Lord, quickly come,
bring YOUR final harvest home;
gather ALL YOUR people in,
free from sorrow, free from sin,
there, forever purified,
in YOUR presence to abide;
come, with all YOUR angels, come,
BRING YOUR glorious harvest home.
Renewal lyric changes by RH Reinhard (c) 2014