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 needs to be supplied come to gods own temple come raise the song of harvest home  all the world is gods 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 offences 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 bring thy final harvest home gather thou thy people in free from sorrow free from sin  there forever purified in thy garner to abide come with all thine angels come raise the glorious harvest home 