1 Great God, as seasons disappear,
And changes make the rolling year;
As time, with rapid pinions flies,
May ev'ry season make us wise.

2 Long has thy favor crown'd our days,
And summer shed again its rays;
No deadly cloud our sky has veil'd,
No blasting winds our path assail'd.

3 Our harvest months have o'er us roll'd,
And fill'd our fields with waving gold;
Our tables spread, our garners stor'd!
Where are our hearts to praise the Lord!

4 The solemn harvest comes apace,
The closing day of life and grace:
Time of decision, awful hour!
Around it let no tempest low'r!

5 Prepare us, Lord, by grace divine,
Like stars in heaven to rise and shine;
Then shall our happy souls above,
Reap the full harvest of thy love!