Thanksgiving Song Lyrics
Singing,
the Reapers Homeward Come
(Author Unknown)
Singing, the reapers homeward come, Io! Io!
Merrily singing the harvest home, Io! Io!
Along the field, along the road,
Where autumn is scattering leaves abroad,
Homeward cometh the ripe last load, Io! Io!
Singers are filling the twilight dim
With cheerful song, Io! Io!
The spirit of song ascends to Him
Who causeth the corn to grow.
He freely sent the gentle rain,
The summer sun glorified hill and plain,
To golden perfection brought the grain, Io! Io!
Silently, nightly, fell the dew,
Gently the rain, Io! Io!
But who can tell how the green corn grew,
Or who beheld it grow?
Oh! God the good, in sun and rain,
He looked on the flourishing fields and grain,
Till they all appeared on hill and plain
Like living gold, Io! Io!
All
Things Bright and Beautiful
Words based on Genesis 1:31 by Cecil
Frances Alexander (1818-1895)
This version of the tune is from a 17th Century English melody.
:
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all.
(Refrain)
Each little flower
that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
God made their glowing colors,
And made their tiny wings.
(Refrain)
The purple-headed mountains,
The river running by,
The sunset and the morning
That brightens up the sky.
(Refrain)
The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden:
God made them every one.
(Refrain)
God gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.
(Refrain)
Come,
Ye Thankful People Come
Sir George J. Elvey (1816-1893), organist at St. George's Chapel, Windsor Castle for nearly fifty years, wrote the music to the well-loved Thanksgiving hymn about 1844. The lyrics are by Henry Alford (1810-1871).
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.
All the world is God's own field
Fruit unto his praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
First the blade, and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear;
Lord of the harvest! grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.
For the Lord our God shall
come,
And shall take his harvest home;
From his field shall in that day
All offenses purge away,
Give his angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In his garner evermore.
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.
Listen to the Music of Come you thankful people
For
the Beauty of the Earth
Lyrics by
Folliot S. Pierpoint
(1835-1917)
Arrangement from Conrad Kocher (1786-1872) by W. H. Monk (1823-1889)
For the beauty of
the earth,
for the glory of the skies,
for the love which from our birth
over and around us lies;
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
For the beauty of each hour
of the day and of the night,
hill and vale, and tree and flower,
sun and moon, and stars of light;
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
For the joy of ear and eye,
for the heart and mind's delight,
for the mystic harmony,
linking sense to sound and sight;
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
For the joy of human love,
brother, sister, parent, child,
friends on earth and friends above,
for all gentle thoughts and mild;
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
For thy church, that evermore
lifteth holy hands above,
offering upon every shore
her pure sacrifice of love;
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
For thyself, best Gift Divine,
to the world so freely given,
for that great, great love of thine,
peace on earth, and joy in heaven:
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
Listen to the Music of For the beauty of the earth
To
Gramma's House
The words are traditional. Sung to Farmer in the Dell.
To Gramma's house
we go,
Heigh ho, heigh ho, heigh ho!
We're on our way with horse and sleigh,
Through fluffy drifts of snow.
Oh, what a trip to take.
She'll have a chocolate cake.
There'll be some pies, of monstrous size,
And chestnuts we can bake
To Gramma's house we go,
Heigh ho, heigh ho, heigh ho!
What lovely things Thanksgiving brings;
The nicest things we know!
We
Gather Together
In the early 1600s, Dutch settlers brought the Prayer of Thanksgiving to the "New World". Music, based on a Netherlands folk hymn, was added and it became a favorite in the colonies and today is a traditional Thanksgiving hymn. This a translation by Theodore Baker (1851-1934).
We gather together
to ask the Lord's blessing;
He chastens and hastens his will to make known;
The wicked oppressing now cease from distressing,
Sing praises to his name: He forgets not his own.
Beside us to guide us, our God with us joining,
Ordaining, maintaining his kingdom devine;
So from the beginning the fight we were winning;
Thou, Lord, wast at our side, All glory be thine!
We all do extol thee, thou leader triumphant,
And pray that thou still our defender wilt be.
Let thy congregation escape tribulation;
Thy name be ever praised! O Lord, make us free!
Amen
Faith
of Our Fathers
Lyrics Frederick W. Farber, 1814-1863
Music: Henry F. Hemy, 1818-1888
Faith of our fathers! living still
In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword;
O how our hearts beat high with joy
When e're we hear that glorious word!
Faith of our fathers, holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death.
Faith of our fathers! we will strive
To win all nations unto thee;
And through the truth that comes from God
Mankind shall then be truly free.
Faith of our fathers, holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death.
Faith of our fathers! we will love
Both friend and foe in all our strife;
And preach thee, too, as love knows how
By kindly words and virtuous life
Faith of our fathers, holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death.
Now
Thank We All our God
Based on Ecclesiasticus 50:22-24 by Martin Rinkart
(1586-1649)
Translated by Catherine Winkworth (1827-1878)
Music: Johann Crüger (1598-1662) Harmony by Felix Mendelssohn
(1809-1847)
Now thank we all our God,
With heart and hands and voices,
Who wondrous things has done,
In whom this world rejoices;
Who from our mothers' arms
Has blessed us on our way
With countless gifts of love,
And still is ours today.
O may this bounteous God
Through all our life be near us,
With ever joyful hearts
And blessed peace to cheer us;
And keep us still in grace,
And guide us when perplexed;
And free us from all ills,
In this world and the next.
All praise and thanks to God
The Father now be given;
The Son, and him who reigns
With them in highest heaven;
The one eternal God,
Whom earth and heaven adore;
For thus it was, is now,
And shall be evermore.
| Holiday Index | Leisure Index | Thanksgiving Index | |
Contact Us |
Refer this page | ||