1 Lo, summer comes again! And after springtide rain,
The quickening sunbeams flood the world with light;
See, high in night’s clear skies, the joy of longing eyes,
The moon of harvest shines serenely bright.

2 O Lord of Heav’n and earth, who givest joy and mirth,
Open our lips to show Thy wondrous praise;
Our hearts are dull and cold, we leave Thy love untold;
O give us strength our anthems glad to raise.

3 Each month we sow or reap, each hour we toil or sleep,
Thou givest life and joy, and Thou alone;
O grant to each and all when death’s dark shadows fall,
To stand true workers round our Master’s throne.

4 So, life’s long task-work o’er, set free for evermore,
We shall sit down at Thy great harvest feast;
Reaper and sower met, the burning heat forget,
And taste God’s love, the greatest as the least.

5 Yea, Lord, Thou too dost claim, the Sower’s mystic name;
Thou sendest forth Thy reapers to their field;
O be it theirs to bear the full corn in the ear,
When Thy true seed its hundred-fold shall yield.

6 Root out the evil tares, earth’s vexing griefs and cares,
Bind the hot blasts that wither and destroy;
And when the hour is come to bring the full sheaves home,
Bid men and angels share Thy harvest joy.