ATHER of mercies, God of love,
Whose gifts all creatures share,
The rolling seasons, as they move,
Proclaim Thy constant care.
When in the bosom of the earth
The sower hid the grain,
Thy goodness marked its secret birth,
And sent the early rain.
The spring's sweet influence, Lord, was Thine,
The seasons knew Thy call;
Thou mad'st the summer suns to shine,
The summer dews to fall.
The hand unseen that works above
Matured the swelling grain;
And now the harvest crowns Thy love,
And plenty fills the plain.
Oh! ne'er may our forgetful hearts
O'erlook Thy bounteous care;
But what our Father's hand imparts
Still own in praise and prayer!
WE plough the fields, and scatter
The good seed on the land,
But it is fed and watered
By God's Almighty hand;
He sends the snow in winter,
The warmth to swell the grain,
The breezes, and the sunshine,
And soft, refreshing rain.
All good gifts around us
Are sent from heaven above,
Then thank the Lord, oh! thank the Lord
For all His love.
He only is the Maker
Of all things near and far;
He paints the wayside flower,
He lights the evening star;
The winds and waves obey Him,
By Him the birds are fed;
Much more to us, His children,
He gives our daily bread.
All good gifts around us
Are sent from heaven above,
Then thank the Lord, oh! thank the Lord
For all His love.
We thank Thee then, O Father,
For all things bright and good,
The seed-time and the harvest,
Our life, our health, our food;
Accept the gifts we offer
For all Thy love imparts,
And, what Thou most desirest,
Our humble, thankful hearts.
All good gifts around us
Are sent from heaven above,
Then thank the Lord, oh! thank the Lord
For all His love.
HE sower went forth sowing,
The seed in secret slept
Through weeks of faith and patience,
Till out the green blade crept ;
And warmed by golden sunshine,
And fed by silver rain,
At last the fields were whitened
To harvest once again.
Oh! praise the heavenly Sower,
Who gave the fruitful seed,
And watched and watered duly,
And ripened for our need.
Behold! the heavenly Sower
Goes forth with better seed,
The word of sure salvation,
With feet and hands that bleed ;
Here in His Church 'tis scattered,
Our spirits are the soil;
Then let an ample fruitage
Repay His pain and toil.
Oh! beauteous is the harvest
Wherein all goodness thrives,
And this the true thanksgiving,
The first-fruits of our lives.
Within a hallowed acre
He sows yet other grain,
When peaceful earth receiveth
The dead He died to gain;
For though the growth be hidden,
We know that they shall rise;
Yea even now they ripen
In sunny Paradise.
O summer land of harvest,
O fields for ever white
With souls that wear Christ's raiment,
With crowns of golden light!
One day the heavenly Sower
Shall reap where He hath sown,
And come again rejoicing,
And with Him bring His own ;
And then the fan of judgment
Shall winnow from His floor
The chaff into the furnace
That flameth evermore.
O holy, awful Reaper,
Have mercy in the day
Thou puttest in Thy sickle,
And cast us not away.
“HINE arm, O Lord, in days of old
Was strong to heal and save;
It triumphed o'er disease and death,
O'er darkness and the grave:
To Thee they went, the blind, the dumb,
The palsied and the lame,
The leper with his tainted life,
The sick with fevered frame.
And lo! Thy touch brought life and health,
Gave speech, and strength, and sight;
And youth renewed and frenzy calmed
Owned Thee, the Lord of light.
And now, O Lord, be near to bless,
Almighty as of yore,
In crowded street, by restless couch,
As by Gennesareth's shore.
Be Thou our great Deliverer still,
Thou Lord of life and death,
Restore and quicken, soothe and bless
With Thine Almighty breath:
To hands that work, and eyes that see,
Give wisdom's heavenly lore,
That whole and sick, and weak and strong, May praise Thee evermore.
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