A Harvest Hymn For 1840

Dublin Core


A Harvest Hymn For 1840


The God of harvest praise;
In loud thanksgivings, raise

Hand, heart, and voice;

The valleys laugh and sing,
Forests and mountains ring,
The plains their tribute bring,

The streams rejoice.

Of food for man and beast,
Jehovah spreads a feast,

Above, beneath;

Ye herds and flocks draw near,
Fowls, ye are welcome here;
His goodness crowns the year

For all that breathe.

Garden and orchard ground,
Autumnal fruits have crown'd;

The vintage glows;

Here Plenty pours her horn,
There the full tide of corn,
Sway'd by the breath of morn,

The land o'erflows.

The wind, the rain, the sun,
Their genial work have done;

Wouldst thou be fed,

Man, to thy labor bow,
Thrust in the sickle now,
Reap where thou once did plow,

God sends Thee bread.

Thy few seeds scatter'd wide,
He hath so multiplied,

That thou may'st find

Christ's miracle renew'd;
With self-producing food,
He feeds a multitude,

He feeds mankind.

The God of harvest praise;
Hands, hearts, and voices raise,

With sweet accord;

From field to garner throng,
Bearing your sheaves along,
And in your harvest song,

Bless ye the Lord.

Yea, bless his holy name,
And your soul's thanks proclaim

Through all the earth;

To glory in your lot
Is comely, - but be not
God's benefits forgot

Amidst your mirth.

The Mount, near Sheffield, Sept. 2, 1840.


James Montgomery, Esq.


New Series 1:38, p. 4




James Montgomery, Esq., “A Harvest Hymn For 1840,” Periodical Poets, accessed April 14, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/381.


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