Methodist-Hymns-964
1: TO Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise
In hymns of adoration,
To Thee bring sacrifice of praise
With shouts of exultation:
Bright robes of gold the fields adorn,
The hills with joy 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,
Upon Thine altar, Lord, we lay
The first-fruits of thy blessing:
By thee the souls of men are fed
With gifts of grace supernal;
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 garners bright elected.
4: O blessed is that land of God,vWhere 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 an ending.