1 Awake, sweet gratitude, and sing;
Wake, harp and timbrel, lute and lyre;
Let the whole earth with praises ring,
And mercies gratitude inspire.

2 The harvest moon has fill'd her horn;
Loud sound the God of nature's praise:
From the first beams of rosy morn,
Until the sun's declining rays.

3 'Tis to his gracious care we owe,
The early and the latter rain;
At his command the sunbeams glow,
And load the earth with ripen'd grain.

4 'Tis he whose goodness has supplied
Abundant stores for time to come;
While on the gentle zephyrs ride
The joyful shouts of harvest home.

5 Thus, while the "God of nature" claims
Our fervent gratitude and praise;
May we adore his sweeter names,
And love and serve the God of grace.