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WE GATHER TOGETHER

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 divine;

So from the beginning the fight we were winning:

Thou, Lord, wast at our side – all glory be Thine!

We all do extol Thee, 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!

GIVE THANKS

Give thanks with a grateful heart;

Give thanks to the Holy One;

Give thanks because He’s given Jesus Christ, His Son.

Give thanks with a grateful heart;

Give thanks to the Holy One;

Give thanks because He’s given Jesus Christ, His son.

And now let the weak say, “I am strong;”

Let the poor say, “I am rich,”

Because of what the Lord has done for us.

NOW THANK WE ALL OUR GOD

Now thank we all our God, With heart and hands and voices,

Who wondrous things hath done, In whom His world rejoices;

Who from our mothers’ arms, Hath 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 in His 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 heav’n adore;

For thus it was, is now, And shall be ever more.

COME, YE THANKFUL PEOPLE, COME

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 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,

To 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.

AMERICA, THE BEAUTIFUL

O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain,

For purple mountain majesties, Above the fruited plain!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood, From sea to shining sea!

O beautiful for pilgrim feet, Whose stern, impassioned stress

A thoroughfare for freedom beat, Across the wilderness!

America! America! God mend thine every flaw;

Confirm thy soul in self-control, Thy liberty in law!

O beautiful for heroes proved, In liberating strife,

Who more than self their country loved, And mercy more than life!

America! America! May God thy gold refine

Till all success be nobleness, And every gain divine!

O beautiful for patriot dream, That sees beyond the years

Thine alabaster cities gleam, Undimmed by human tears!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood, From sea to shining sea!

BRINGING IN THE SHEAVES

Sowing in the morning, sowing seed of kindness

Sowing in the noontide and the dewy eve

Waiting for the harvest and the time of reaping

We shall come rejoicing bringing in the sheaves

Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves

We shall come rejoicing bringing in the sheaves

Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves

We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves

Sowing in the sunshine, sowing in the shadows

Fearing neither clouds nor winter’s chilling breeze

High and by the harvest and the labor ended

We shall come rejoicing bringing in the sheaves

Going forth with weeping, sowing for the Master

Though the loss sustained our spirit often grieves

When our weeping’s over He will bid us welcome

We shall come rejoicing bringing in the sheaves.

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