To Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise (Arthur Sullivan): Difference between revisions

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<poem>
<poem>
1. To Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise
1. To Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise
In hymns of adoration,
  In hymns of adoration,
To Thee bring sacrifice of praise,
  To Thee bring sacrifice of praise,
With shouts of exultation.
  With shouts of exultation.
Bright robes of gold the fields adorn,
  Bright robes of gold the fields adorn,
The Hills with Joy are ringing,
  The Hills with Joy are ringing,
The valleys stand so thick with corn
  The valleys stand so thick with corn
That even they are singing.
  That even they are singing.


2. And now, on this our festal day,
2. And now, on this our festal day,
Thy bounteous hand confessing,
  Thy bounteous hand confessing,
Before Thee thankfully we lay
  Before Thee thankfully we lay
The first-fruits of Thy blessing.
  The first-fruits of Thy blessing.
By Thee the souls of men are fed
  By Thee the souls of men are fed
With gifts of grace supernal;
  With gifts of grace supernal;
Thou who dost give us earthly bread,
  Thou who dost give us earthly bread,
Give us the Bread eternal.
  Give us the Bread eternal.


3. We bear the burden of the day,
3. We bear the burden of the day,
And often toil seems dreary;
  And often toil seems dreary;
But labour ends with sunset ray,
  But labour ends with sunset ray,
And rest comes to the weary.
  And rest comes to the weary.
May we, the angel-reaping o'er,
  May we, the angel-reaping o'er,
Stand at the last accepted,
  Stand at the last accepted,
Christ's golden sheaves, for evermore
  Christ's golden sheaves, for evermore
To garners bright elected.
  To garners bright elected.


4. O blessèd is that land of God
4. O blessèd is that land of God
Where saints abide for ever,
  Where saints abide for ever,
Where golden fields spread far and broad,
  Where golden fields spread far and broad,
Where flows the crystal river.
  Where flows the crystal river.
The strains of all its holy throng
  The strains of all its holy throng
With ours today are blending;
  With ours today are blending;
Thrice blessèd is that harvest song
  Thrice blessèd is that harvest song
Which never hath an ending.
  Which never hath an ending.
</poem>
</poem>


[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Romantic music]]
[[Category:Romantic music]]

Revision as of 23:41, 7 February 2012

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Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2010-08-15).   Score information: A4, 1 page, 19 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: To Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise
Composer: Arthur Sullivan
Tune: Golden sheaves
Lyricist: William Chatterton Dix

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB

Genre: SacredHymn   Meter: 87. 87. D (iambic)

Language: English
Instruments:a cappella or Keyboard
Published: 1874

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

1. To Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise
   In hymns of adoration,
   To Thee bring sacrifice of praise,
   With shouts of exultation.
   Bright robes of gold the fields adorn,
   The Hills with Joy are ringing,
   The valleys stand so thick with corn
   That even they are singing.

2. And now, on this our festal day,
   Thy bounteous hand confessing,
   Before Thee thankfully we lay
   The first-fruits of Thy blessing.
   By Thee the souls of men are fed
   With gifts of grace supernal;
   Thou who dost give us earthly bread,
   Give us the Bread eternal.

3. We bear the burden of the day,
   And often toil seems dreary;
   But labour ends with sunset ray,
   And rest comes to the weary.
   May we, the angel-reaping o'er,
   Stand at the last accepted,
   Christ's golden sheaves, for evermore
   To garners bright elected.

4. O blessèd is that land of God
   Where saints abide for ever,
   Where golden fields spread far and broad,
   Where flows the crystal river.
   The strains of all its holy throng
   With ours today are blending;
   Thrice blessèd is that harvest song
   Which never hath an ending.