To Praise the Ever Bounteous Lord

To praise the ev­er boun­te­ous Lord

My soul

wake all thy pow­ers;

He calls

and at His voice come forth

The smil­ing har­vest hours.

His co­ve­nant with the earth He keeps;

My tongue His good­ness sing:

Summer and win­ter know their time

His har­vest crowns the spring.

Well pleased the toil­ing swains be­hold

The wav­ing yel­low crop:

With joy they bear the sheaves away

And sow again in hope.

Thus teach me

gra­cious God

to sow

The seeds of right­eous­ness:

Smile on my soul

and with Thy beams

The rip­en­ing har­vest bless.

Then in the last great har­vest I

Shall reap a glo­ri­ous crop:

The har­vest shall by far ex­ceed

What I have sowed in hope.