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Now the year is crowned with blessing
As we gather in the grain;
And, our grateful thanks expressing,
Loud we raise a joyous strain.
Bygone days of toil and sadness
Cannot now our peace destroy;
For the hills are clothed with gladness,
And the valleys shout for joy.
To the Lord their first-fruits bringing,
All His thankful people come
To the Father praises singing
For the joy of harvest home.
In the spring the smiling meadows
Donned their robes of living green,
As the sunshine chased the shadows
Swiftly o’er the changing scene;
In the summer-time the story
Of a riper hope was told;
Then the rich autumnal glory
Decked the fields in cloth of gold.
To the Lord their first-fruits bringing,
All His thankful people come
To the Father praises singing
For the joy of harvest home.
Shall not we, whose hearts are swelling
With the thought of former days,
Sing a joyous song foretelling
Future gladness, fuller praise?
For the cloud the bow retaineth
With its covenant of peace,
That as long as earth remaineth,
Harvest time shall never cease.
To the Lord their first-fruits bringing,
All His thankful people come
To the Father praises singing
For the joy of harvest home.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 7 8 7 D and refrain
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1964 | # 578 | | 1954 | # 967 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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MORGENLIED
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Meter:
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8 7 8 7 T
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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pre 1890
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 967 | A | | # 152 | Ab | | # 201 | Ab | | # 578 | Ab | | # 206 | Ab | | # 266 | No key |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
