HYMN 701

8.7.8.7 d



1.  TO Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise

     In hymns of adoration

     To Thee bring sacrifice of praise 

     With shouts of exultations

     Bright robes of gold the field adorn 

     The hills with joy are ringing

     The valleys stand are ringing

     The valleys stand so thick with corn 

     That even they are singing.


2.  And now, on this our festal day

     Thy bounteous hand confessing 

     Before Thee thankfully we lay

     The first-fruits of Thy blessing

     By Thee the souls of men are fed 

     With gifts of grace supernals

     Thou who dost give us earthly bread 

     Give us the bread eternal.


3.  We bear the burden of the day 

     And often toil seems dreary

     But labour ends with sunset ray

     And rest comes for the weary

     May we, the angel-reaping o’er 

     Stand at the last accepted

     Christ's golden sheaves for evermore 

     To garmers bright elected.


4.  O blessed is that land of God

     Where saints abide for ever

     Where golden fields spread far and broad 

     Where flows the crystal river

     The strains of all its holy throng

     With ours to-day are blending

     Thrice blessed is that harvest song 

     Which never hath and ending.  Amen