Church Hymns and Tunes - online hymnal, page 0618

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2   For grasses of upland and lowland, For fruits of the garden and field,
For gold which the mine and the furrow To delver and husbandman yield.
3   And thanks for the harvest of beauty, For that which the hands cannot hold,
The harvest eyes only can gather, And only our hearts can enfold.
4  We reap it on mountain and moorland; We glean it from meadow and lea;
We garner it in from the cloudland; We bind it in sheaves from the sea.
5   But the song it goes deeper and higher;! There are harvests that eye cannot see;
They ripen on mountains of duty,
Are reaped by the brave and the free. I
6  And these have been gathered and gar-
nered. Some golden with honor and gain, And some, as with heart's blood, are ruddj The harvests of sorrow and pain.
7   O Thou who art Lord of the harvest J The Giver who gladdens our days,
Our hearts are for ever repeating
Thanksgiving and honor and praise. 1 J. W. Chadwick