A Peaceful Day

I defy you to agitate any fellow with a full stomach.
William Cobbett - 1763 - 1835

Today, as we bow our heads to a bountiful God, we can be thankful that we are blessed to live in the most prosperous, idealistic and bountiful nation ever known upon the face of this earth.

Porcupine enjoys old hymns, and has many antique hymnals which he reads like poetry. Here, he shares a classic, and asks that you read the lyrics, and consider their application to your own life.

Come, ye thankful people, come, Raise the song of harvest home;

All is safely gathered in, ere the winter storms begin.

God our Maker doth provide for our wants to be supplied;

Come to God's own temple, come, Raise the song of harvest home.

All the world is God's own field, Praise as fruit to God we yield;

Wheat and tares together sown, both to joy or sorrow grown;

First the blade and then the ear, then the full corn doth appear;

Lord of harvest, grant that we wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord our God shall come, and shall take the harvest home;

From the field shall in that day all offenses purge away,

Giving angels charge at last, in the fire the tares to cast;

But the fruitful ears to store in the garner evermore.

Even so, Lord, quickly come, bring 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.