Hymn - SDA Hymnal

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557

Come, Ye Thankful People

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!

2

We ourselves are 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;
Grant, O harvest Lord, that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

3

For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take His harvest home;
From His field shall purge away
All that doth offend, that day;
Give His angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast,
But the fruitful ears to store
In His garner evermore.

4

Then, thou church triumphant, come,
Raise the song of harvest home;
All are safely gathered in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin;
There forever purified
In God's garner to abide;
Come, ten thousand angels, come,
Raise the glorious harvest home!