As from your hand all graces flow,
pour down the rain and sun
to make a goodly harvest grow
when sorrow's planting's done.
Pour down the health and strength, O God,
that let us work the ground,
for thistles choke the shallow sod
and thorns have held us bound.
We sink our hands into the soil
but do not work alone:
O, bless our longing and our toil
and all that shall be grown.
Give us the blade and then the ear,
the ear and then the grain,
that we may know, in spite of fear,
we labor not in vain.
Give us the long-lived sumer days
when green may ripen gold,
and keep us ever in your ways,
for soon the nights turn cold.
And when the harvest time has come,
be generous, O Lord,
that when the winter winds benumb
we'll feast on our reward.
Wheat field in Vampula, Finland. By kallerna – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=123191323
Kate Bluett 