Come, Ye Thankful People

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    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. 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.