HARVEST HYMN.
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God of the year !-with songs of praise,

 And hearts of love, we come to bless Thy bounteous hand, for thou hast shed

 Thy mama Der our wilderness: In early spring-i time lhou didsi fling Ger earth it's rnbe of blossoming- And it's sweet treasures, day by day, Rose quick ming in thy blessed ray. And now they whiten hill and vale,

 And hang from every vine and tree, Whose pensile branches hending low,

 Seem bowed in Dkfulncss 10 thee, The earth with all it's purple isles Is waving to thy genial smiles, And gales of perfume breathe along, And Iifl to thee their voiceless ssng.. God of the seasons thou hast blest

 The land with sunlight aud with showers, And plenty O'er it's bosom smiles,

 To crown the sweet autumDal hours; Praise, praise to Thee! our hearts expand, To view the blessings of thy hand And on the incense-breaih of love, Go of to their bright home above.