Come, ye thankful people, come (St George’s Windsor) – Brass Band

Hymn – Come, ye thankful people, come – Lyrics

1. Come, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of harvest home!
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin;
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied;
Come to God’s own temple, come;
Raise the song of harvest home!

2. We ourselves are God’s own field,
Fruit unto his praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
First the blade and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear;
Grant, O harvest Lord, that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

3. For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take the harvest home;
From His field shall in that day
All offences purge away,
Giving angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In the garner evermore.

4. Then, thou Church triumphant come,
Raise the song of harvest home!
All be safely gathered in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin,
There, forever purified,
In God’s garner to abide;
Come, ten thousand angels, come,
Raise the glorious harvest home!

Recording

See also Come, ye thankful people, come (Saint George’s Windsor) – Organ

 
The music used in this recording belongs in the Public Domain, but the Performance rights ℗ belong to Richard M S Irwin. You may click the Download Button to obtain the MP3 recording for use in Worship or for personal use only. For other uses of the recording, please Contact Us.  
Click Here to Download

Details

  • Tune: Saint George’s Windsor
  • Meter: 77 77 D
  • Style: Victorian Hymn
  • Composer: George Job Elvey (1816 – 1893)
  • Lyricist: Henry Alford (1810 – 1871)
  • Church Year: Harvest
  • Music and Lyrics Copyright Public Domain.
  • Performance Copyright ℗ 2016 Richard M S Irwin, Certain rights reserved.

Crown Him with many crowns (Diadematar)

Lyrics

Crown Him with many crowns,
The Lamb upon His throne,
Hark! how the heavenly anthem drowns
All music but its own.
Awake, my soul, and sing
Of Him who died for thee,
And Hail him as thy matchless King
through all eternity.

Crown Him the Virgin’s Son,
The God incarnate born,
Whose arm those crimson trophies won
Fruit of the mystic Rose,
As of the Rose the Stem,
The Root, whence mercy ever flows,
The Babe of Bethlehem.

Crown Him the Lord of Love.
Behold His hands and side,
Rich wounds, yet visible above,
In beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky
Can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his wondering eye
At mysteries so bright!

Crown Him the Lord of peace,
Whose power a scepter sways
From pole to pole, that wars may cease,
And all be prayer and praise:
His reign shall know no end,
And round His piercèd feet
Fair flowers of paradise extend
Their fragrance ever sweet.

Crown Him the Lord of years,
The Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling spheres,
Ineffably sublime.
All hail, Redeemer, hail!
For Thou has died for me;
Thy praise and glory shall not fail
Throughout eternity.

Recordings


 
To simplify issues with Copyright, we have had to start using various on-line delivery services for some hymns. A recording of this hymn is available on Richard Irwin's album - From Advent to Epiphany Volume 1 which can be found on AmazonGoogle Play, iTunesSpotify. Please Contact Us if you do not have access to these services.  

Click Here to Download

Details

  • Album: From Advent to Epiphany Volume 1
  • Tune: Diadematar
  • Meter: DSM
  • Style: Victorian Hymn
  • Composer: George Job Elvey (1816 – 1893)
  • Lyricist: Matthew Bridges (1800 – 1894)
  • Church Year: General | Church Year: Advent | Church Year: Ascension
  • Music and Lyrics Copyright Public Domain
  • Performance Copyright ℗ 2016 Richard M S Irwin, Certain rights reserved.

Come, ye thankful people, come (Saint George’s Windsor) – Organ

Hymn – Come, ye thankful people, come – Lyrics

1. Come, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of harvest home!
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin;
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied;
Come to God’s own temple, come;
Raise the song of harvest home!

2. We ourselves are God’s own field,
Fruit unto his praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
First the blade and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear;
Grant, O harvest Lord, that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

3. For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take the harvest home;
From His field shall in that day
All offences purge away,
Giving angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In the garner evermore.

4. Then, thou Church triumphant come,
Raise the song of harvest home!
All be safely gathered in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin,
There, forever purified,
In God’s garner to abide;
Come, ten thousand angels, come,
Raise the glorious harvest home!

Recording

See also Come, ye thankful people, come – Brass Band

 
The music used in this recording belongs in the Public Domain, but the Performance rights ℗ belong to Richard M S Irwin. You may click the Download Button to obtain the MP3 recording for use in Worship or for personal use only. For other uses of the recording, please Contact Us.  
Click Here to Download

Details

  • Tune: Saint George’s Windsor
  • Meter: 77 77 D
  • Style: Victorian Hymn
  • Composer: George Job Elvey (1816 – 1893)
  • Lyricist: Henry Alford (1810 – 1871)
  • Church Year: Harvest
  • Music and Lyrics Copyright Public Domain.
  • Performance Copyright ℗ 2016 Richard M S Irwin, Certain rights reserved.