Poetry Corner

By Shelley Sawyer

Dear faithful reader,

This year is flying by, and it is almost Holiday time once again. Here is a Thanksgiving Hymn for you. Most – if not all of us – grew up singing this one. I remember singing it in chapel at Thanksgiving during my early school years. What lovely poetry there is to be found in hymns! If we allow them to do so, when we read the words, they give us pause to find a moment’s peace in the chaos, craziness, and often total madness that we seem to be surrounded by in the world these days. There is some craziness to come yet this year, so buckle up tight. That is all I will say about that. In the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving, a Very Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year to each of you, dear reader. Enjoy this hymn, which is a favorite of mine.
Just to give you a head’s up, I will be making a slight change in my column next year, so stay tuned. Enjoy.

Come, Ye Thankful People, Come

Words by Henry Alford, 1810-1871

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 as praise to God we yield;
wheat and tares together sown
are to 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.

3. For the Lord our God shall come,
and shall take the harvest home;
from the field shall in that day
all offenses purge away,
giving angels charge at last
in the fire the tares to cast;
but the fruitful ears to store
in the garner evermore.

4. Even so, Lord, quickly come,
bring thy final harvest home;
gather thou thy people in,
free from sorrow, free from sin,
there, forever purified,
in thy presence to abide;
come, with all thine angels, come,
raise the glorious harvest home.