Glad from its wintry grave it springs,
Fresh garnished by the King of Kings;
So, Lord, to those who sleep in Thee
Shall new and glorious bodies be.
Nor vainly of Thy Word we ask
A lesson from the reaper's task,
So shall Thine angels issue forth,
The tares be burnt; the just of earth,
Playthings of sun and storm no more,
Be gathered to their Father's store.
Daily, O Lord, our prayers be said,
As Thou hast taught for daily bread;
But not alone our bodies feed,
Supply our fainting spirits' need!
O Bread of Life! from day to day
Be Thou their Comfort, Food, and Stay.
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.
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.
For the Lord our God shall come
And shall take His harvest home,
From His field shall in that day
All offences 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.
Then, thou Church Triumphant, come, Raise the song of harvest-home!
All are safely gathered in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin;
There, for ever purified,
In God's garner to abide :
Come, ten thousand angels, come,
Raise the glorious harvest-home. Amen.
WHAT Our Father does is well;
Blessed truth His children tell!
Though He send, for plenty, want,
Though the harvest-store be scant,
Yet we rest upon His love,
Seeking better things above.
What our Father does is well:
Shall the wilful heart rebel?
If a blessing He withhold
In the field, or in the fold,
Is it not Himself to be
All our store eternally?
What our Father does is well;
Though He sadden hill and dell,
Upward yet our praises rise
For the strength His Word supplies:
He has called us sons of God,
Can we murmur at His rod?
What our Father does is well;
May the thought within us dwell;
Though nor milk nor honey flow
In our barren Canaan now,
God can save us in our need,
God can bless us, God can feed.
Therefore unto Him we raise
Hymns of glory, songs of praise;
To the Father and the Son,
And the Spirit, Three in One,
Honour, might, and glory be,
Now, and through eternity. Amen.
FOR Thy mercy and Thy grace,
Faithful through another year,
Hear our song of thankfulness,
Father and Redeemer hear!
In our weakness and distress,
Rock of strength, be Thou our stay!
In the pathless wilderness
Be our true and living way!
Who of us death's awful road
In the coming year shall tread? With Thy rod and staff, O God, Comfort Thou his dying head!
Keep us faithful, keep us pure,
Keep us evermore Thine own!
Help, O help us to endure,
Fit us for the promised crown!
So within Thy Palace-gate
We shall praise on golden strings Thee, the only Potentate,
Lord of Lords, and King of Kings.
LOOK, Father, from above
In pity on Thy fold,
Kept by Thy sovereign love
While years away have rolled-Look down upon Thy children here, Smile on us through the opening year.
Bless'd Jesus, at Thy feet, Monarch of earth and heaven, We wait the assurance sweet Of all our sins forgiven: Our consciences, Redeemer, clear From guilt and dread throughout the year.
Spirit of love and peace,
Heal every wounded heart,
Our faith and hope increase,
And holiness impart :
Our fainting souls direct and cheer
With Thy rich graces through the year.
Thus, Father, may Thy love,
Saviour, Thy gracious might,
Thy influence, heavenly Dove,
Great Comforter, unite,
To cleanse each soul, to chase each fear,
And kindle joy throughout the year.
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