Come, Ye Thankful People, Come
Henry Alford
(1810-1871)

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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 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 garner to abide.
Come, with all Thine angels come;
Raise the glorious harvest home!

 

 

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Jim’s Itinerary

9-21 May: Pastors’ train­ing conference, Guate­mala.
10-17 June: Ministering in Iowa, including the Iowa Holiness Association Camp Meeting [tentative]
25 Jul-3 Aug: Pastors’ train­ing conferences in Costa Rica with Lend­A­Hand Mission Teams.

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