43 lines
3.0 KiB
HTML
43 lines
3.0 KiB
HTML
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<title>BLB Hymns</title>
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<h2>TO THEE, O LORD, OUR HEARTS WE RAISE</h2>
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<p align="center"><h3>“Celebrate the Feast of Harvest with the firstfruits of the crops you sow in your field.” Exodus 23:16</h3></p>
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<center><b>Hymns Supplied Through the Gracious Generosity<br>of the </b><a href="http://www.hymntime.com/tch/" target = "_blank"><b>Cyber Hymnal Website</b></a><br><br><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/cyberhymnal_info.html" target = "_blank">Information about Cyber Hymnal Website</a></center>
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<center>
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<table>
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<td><img src="./hymns/hymns_img/img_d_i_dix_wc.jpg" alt="William Chatterton Dix (1837-1898)" width="92.6666666666667" height="135.333333333333"></td>
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<td><em>Words:</em> <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_d_i_dix_wc.html" target="_blank">William Chatterton Dix</a>, in <em>Hymns Fitted to the Order of the Common Prayer</em>, by <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_p_o_pott_f.html" target="_blank">Francis Pott</a>, 1861.
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<p><em>Music:</em> “Bishopgarth,” <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_s_u_sullivan_as.html" target="_blank">Arthur Seymour Sullivan</a>, 1874 </p><p><table><tr><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_mid/mid_b_bishopga.mid" target = "_blank"><img border=0 src="./hymns/hymns_img/notes.gif"><br><b>Play MIDI</b></a></td><td> </td><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/score_info.html" target = "_blank"><b>Link to obtain<br>musical score info</b></a></td></tr></table></p>
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<td><img src="./hymns/hymns_img/img_s_u_sullivan_as.jpg" alt="Arthur Seymour Sullivan (1842-1900)" width="131.333333333333" height="198.666666666667"></td>
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</table>
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</center>
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<div class="lyrics">
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<p>To Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise in hymns of adoration,<br>
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To Thee bring sacrifice of praise with shouts of exultation.<br>
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Bright robes of gold the fields adorn, the hills with joy are ringing,<br>
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The valleys stand so thick with corn that even they are singing.</p>
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<p>And now, on this our festal day, Thy bounteous hand confessing,<br>
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Upon Thine altar, Lord, we lay the firstfruits of Thy blessing.<br>
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By Thee all human souls are led with gifts of grace supernal;<br>
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Thou, Who gives us our daily bread, give us the bread eternal.</p>
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<p>We bear the burden of the day, and often toil seems dreary;<br>
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But labor ends with sunset ray, and rest comes for the weary.<br>
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May we, the angel reaping over, stand at the last accepted,<br>
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Christ’s golden sheaves, forevermore to garners bright elected.</p>
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<p>O blessèd is that land of God where saints abide forever,<br>
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Where golden fields spread fair and broad, where flows the crystal river.<br>
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The strains of all its holy throng with ours today are blending;<br>
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Thrice blessèd is that harvest song which never hath an ending.</p>
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</div>
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