NOW EVERY WOOD GROWS PALE AND WAN
Now every wood grows pale and wan
and voice of bird soon parting,
the stork has crossed the shore and gone –
pursued by swallows darting.
Where fields but recently like gold
with ears of corn were swaying,
is only soil that’s black and cold
with stubble old and greying.
But threshing floor and barn are now
where we God’s gifts have treasured,
where active toil and wealth will grow
from stooks in bushels measured.
And he who out of earthly clay
let golden corn be scaling
is with us with his word alway,
the word that’s never-failing.
Him do we thank with songs of praise
for all that he’s been giving:
for summer cornfields all ablaze,
his word, and life for living!
Then over us throughout the year
he lets his peace shine gently,
and, winter over, spring is here
with summer, corn and plenty.
And when at last at his command
from earth we must be wending,
with God in paradise we’ll stand
in summer never-ending.
Then we shall reap as birds do now
though theirs was not the sowing,
then we shall ne’er remember how
earth’s toil and strife kept growing.
For harvest there and harvest here
to God all praise and glory,
who by our Lord, Christ Jesus dear
would be our Father surely.
May then his mighty spirit move
and us, in days fast waning,
raise up through faith and hope and love
till paradise attaining!
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