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To Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise Poem
To Thee, O
Lord, our hearts we raise in hymns of adoration
To Thee bring sacrifice of praise With shouts of
exultation.
Bright robes of gold the fields adorn,the hills with
joy are ringing
The valleys stand so thick with corn that even they
are singing.
And now, on this our festal day,Thy bounteous hand
confessing
Upon Thine altar, Lord, we lay the first fruits of
Thy blessing.
By Thee all human souls are led with gifts of grace
supernal
Thou, Who gives us our daily bread,give us the bread
eternal
We bear the burden of the day,and often toil seems
dreary
But labor ends with sunset ray,and rest comes for
the weary
May we, the angel reaping over,stand at the last
accepted,
Christ’s golden sheaves, forevermoreto garners
bright elected.
O blessèd is that land of God where saints abide
forever
Where golden fields spread fair and broad,where
flows the crystal river
The strains of all its holy throng with ours today
are blending
Thrice blessèd is that harvest song which never hath
an ending
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To Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise Poem
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