One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads Original, and suitable for music [by Jean Ingelow] |
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HARVEST. |
 | One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads |  |
87
HARVEST.
“Praise the Lord, O my soul.”
Thou giv'st to men the fruitful land,
And harvests from the deep;
By day Thou giv'st with bounteous hand,
By night Thou giv'st in sleep.
Thou giv'st the wakening of the spring,
In autumn sheaves to live;
We give but thanks, our God, O King,
Nought else we have to give.
And harvests from the deep;
By day Thou giv'st with bounteous hand,
By night Thou giv'st in sleep.
Thou giv'st the wakening of the spring,
In autumn sheaves to live;
We give but thanks, our God, O King,
Nought else we have to give.
While I have breath I'll praise the Lord,
Who doth me hold in life;
Of His own life did me afford,
And shared my bread, my strife.
By me did toil, and with me housed,
Consider'd sore my doom;
My misery rued, my cause espoused,
And made with me His tomb.
Who doth me hold in life;
Of His own life did me afford,
And shared my bread, my strife.
By me did toil, and with me housed,
Consider'd sore my doom;
My misery rued, my cause espoused,
And made with me His tomb.
He paid my debt, and in three days
The sting of death He stole;
Now am I glad, that was full sad
And sick;—in Him made whole.
O heaven and earth, high praise afford,
Thou deep its echoes roll;
Praise ye the Lord, praise ye the Lord—
Praise the Lord, O my soul.
The sting of death He stole;
Now am I glad, that was full sad
And sick;—in Him made whole.
O heaven and earth, high praise afford,
Thou deep its echoes roll;
Praise ye the Lord, praise ye the Lord—
Praise the Lord, O my soul.
| One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads | |