Harvest Hymn: A Fourth Poem by Martin Farquhar Tupper

Again, through every county
Of Britain's happy shores
The Great Creator's bounty
Unstinted plenty pours;
Again to Him returning
In thankfulness we raise,
Our hearts within us burning,
The sacrifice of praise.

O great as is Thy glory,
Thy goodness doth excel!
What harp can hymn the story?
What tongue the tale can tell?
The boundless breadth of Nature
Is spread beneath Thy throne,
And every living creature
Is fed by Thee alone!

Rejoice! for overflowing
Is each abundant field;
The Lord has blest the sowing,
The Lord has blest the yield;
The mower has mown double,
The reaper doubly reap'd,
And from the shining stubble
Her head the gleaner heap'd.

Rejoice! for mercy blesses,
And judgment smites no more;
The God of grace possesses
Araunah's threshing-floor:
The gains of honest labour
Are shower'd from above,
And neighbour looks on neighbour
In happiness and love.

O men of all conditions,
The high, or humbly-born,-
Away with low seditions!
Away with lofty scorn!
Mix kindly with each other,-
For God has given to all
The common name of brother,
And gladdens great and small.

And Erin! thou that starvest
So patient on thy sod,-
To thee, to thee, this harvest
Is come, the gift of God!
Cheer up, though woes oppress thee;
Be diligent and true;
And, with thy Queen to bless thee,
Her King Shall Bless Thee Too!