Thanksgiving Day.
By Thomas Frederick Young
God of the harvest, once again
Our joyful tones we raise,
For all Thy goodness, day by day,
We give Thee thankful praise.
With blessings rich, from fertile field,
And gifts from fruitful tree,
We wish, this day, our thanks to yield
With earnest hearts, to Thee.
We plough'd the ground, we sow'd the seed,
But Thou didst send the rain
In grateful show'rs, in time of need,
And now we've reap'd the grain.
The sun with grateful heat did shine;
The dew did nightly fall;
And now, for loaded tree and vine -
We give Thee thanks for all.
The bee, in well-fill'd honey cells,
Her sweets for us hath stow'd,
The crystal water in the wells,
For us from springs hath flow'd.
The lowing herd, the prancing steed
Receiv'd we from Thy hand,
And we, this day, return our meed
Of praise, throughout the land.
Then let us sing with earnest hearts,
Tho' joyful be each lay,
And thankful ev'ry song that starts
On this Thanksgiving Day.