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Fountain of mercy, God of love,
How rich thy bounties are!
The rolling seasons, as they move.
Proclaim thy constant care.
When in the bosom of the earth
The sower hid the grain,
Thy goodness marked its secret birth,
And sent the early rain.
The spring's sweet influence. Lord, was thine,
The plants in beauty grew;
Thou gav'st the summer's sun to shine.
The mild refreshing dew.
These various mercies from above
Matured the swelling grain;
A kindly harvest crowns thy love,
And plenty fills the plain.
We own and bless thy gracious sway:
Thy hand all nature hails;
Seed-time nor harvest, night nor day.
Summer nor winter fails.