879. L. M. Brettell.

Harvest Home.

1The last full wain has come,--has come!

And brought the golden harvest home:

The labors of the year are done:

Accept our thanks, all-bounteous One!

2For the green spring, her herbs and flowers,

For the warm summer's blooming bowers,

For all the fruits that flush the boughs,

When russet autumn decks her brows;

3For the bright sun, whose fervid ray

Ripens the corn, and cheers the day;

For the round moon, whose yellow light

Gilds the long labors of the night;

4For the rich sea of shining grain,

That spreads its waves o'er hill and plain,

For the cool breeze, whose light wings fan

The weary, sun-burnt husbandman;

5For the soft herbage of the soil,

For ruddy health, the child of toil;

For all the good the year displays,

Accept, O God, our grateful praise.

The Sacrifice of Thanksgiving.

1Lord of heaven, and earth, and ocean,

Hear us from thy bright abode,

While our hearts, with true devotion,

Own their great and gracious God.

2Health and every needful blessing

Are thy bounteous gifts alone;

Comforts undeserved possessing,

Here we bend before thy throne.

3Thee, with humble adoration,

Lord, we praise for mercies past;

Still to this most favored nation

May those mercies ever last.