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Eleanor Farjeon, based on “Der Tag der ist so freudenreich”

Fields of corn, give up your ears,
Now your ears are heavy,
Wheat and oats and barley-spears,
All your harvest-levy.
Where your sheaves of plenty lean,
Men once more the grain shall glean
Of the Ever-Living,
God the Lord will bless the field,
Bringing in its Autumn yield
Gladly to Thanksgiving.

Vines, send in your bunch of grapes,
Now the bunch is clustered,
Be your gold and purple shapes
Round the altar mustered.
Where the hanging bunches shine
Men once more shall taste the wine
Of the Ever-Living,
God the Lord will bless the root,
Bringing in its Autumn fruit
Gladly to Thanksgiving.

Garden, give your gayest flowers,
Hedge, your wildest bring in,
Turn the churches into bowers
Little birds shall sing in.
Where the children sing their glee
Men once more the Flower shall see
Of the Ever-Living,
God the Lord will bless the throng,
Bringing in its Autumn song
Gladly to Thanksgiving.