I How rich thy gifts, almighty King!
From thee our public blessings spring:
The extended trade, the fruitful skies,
The treasures liberty bestows,
The eternal joys the gospel shows,

2 With grateful hearts, with joyful tongues
To God we raise united songs.
Here still may God in mercy reign,
Crown our just counsels with success,
With peace and joy our borders bless,

:All from thy boundless goodness rise.:||:And all our sacred rights maintain.:||

Rev. Andrew Kippis, 1725

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

4 Even so, Lord, quickly come
To thy final harvest-home:
Gather thou thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin;
There forever purified,
In thy presence to abide:

Come with all thine angels, come,
Raise the glorious harvest-home.

Dean Henry Alford, 1810