143. HARVEST. COME, ye thankful people, come, Raise the song of Harvest-Home! All is safely gather'd in, Ere the winter storms begin: We ourselves are God's own field, be. For the Lord our God shall come, But the fruitful ears to store In His garner evermore. Then, thou Church triumphant, come, Raise the song of Harvest-Home! All are safely gather'd in, Free from sorrow, free from sin; In God's garner to abide : Come, ten thousand Angels, come, THI We build the temple, Lord, to Thee: Thine eye be open night and day To guard this house and sanctuary. Hear Thou, in heaven, Thy dwelling-place, Yet choose not, Lord, this house alone; men. |