Lord, in thy Name thy servants plead, And thou hast sworn to hear; Thine is the harvest, Thine the seed, The fresh and fading year. | Our hope, when autumn winds blew wild, We trusted, Lord, with thee; And now that spring has on us smiled, We wait on thy decree. | The former and the latter rain, The summer sun and air, The green ear, and the golden grain, All thine, are ours by prayer. | Thine, too, by right, and ours by grace, The wondrous growth unseen, The hopes that soothe, the fears that brace, The love that shines serene. | So grant the precious things brought forth By sun and moon below, That thee, in thy new heaven and earth, We never may forego. | |