Above:  Map of St. Marylebone, London, England, 1834

Image in the Public Domain

John Hampden Gurney (1802-1862), a priest of The Church of England, served as the Rector of St. Mary’s Church, Bryanstone, St. Marylebone, London, from 1847 to 1857.  Gurney, who came from privilege, cared deeply about the poor and supported causes to help them.  He also prepared two hymnals, in 1838 and 1851.

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Fair Waved the Golden Corn:

https://gatheredprayers.wordpress.com/2015/12/10/fair-waved-the-golden-corn/

Lord, As to Thy Dear Cross We Flee:

https://gatheredprayers.wordpress.com/2015/12/10/lord-as-to-thy-dear-cross-we-flee/

Lord of the Harvest, Thee We Hail:

https://gatheredprayers.wordpress.com/2015/12/10/lord-of-the-harvest-thee-we-hail/

We Saw Thee Not When Thou Didst Come:

https://gatheredprayers.wordpress.com/2015/12/10/we-saw-thee-not-when-thou-didst-come/

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Above:  Cranberry Harvest in New Jersey

Image in the Public Domain

Hymn Source = American Lutheran Hymnal (1930) American Lutheran Church (1930-1960) and its immediate predecessors

Text (1838) by John Hampden Gurney (1802-1862)

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Lord of the harvest, Thee we hail!

Thine ancient promise doth not fail;

The varying seasons haste their round,

With goodness all our years are crowned;

Our thanks we pay

This festal day;

O let our hearts in tune be found.

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Lord of the harvest!  All is Thine:

The rains that fall, the suns that shine,

The seed once hidden in the ground,

The skill that makes our fruits abound;

New ev’ry year

Thy gifts appear;

New praises from our lips shall sound.

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Immortal honor, endless fame,

Attend th’Almighty Father’s name;

Like honor to th’Incarnate Son,

Who for lost man makes redemption won;

And equal praise

We thankful raise

To Thee, blest Spirit, with them One.

Above:  Corn Field in Colorado

Image in the Public Domain

Hymn Source = The English Hymnal (1906), The Church of England

Text (1851) by John Hampden Gurney (1802-1862)

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Fair waved the golden corn

In Canaan’s pleasant land,

When full of joy, some shining morn,

Went forth the reaper-band.

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To God so good and great

Their cheerful thanks they pour;

Then carry to his temple-gate

The choicest of their store.

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Like Israel, Lord, we give

Our earliest fruits to thee,

And pray that, long as we shall live,

We may thy children be.

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Thine is our youthful prime,

And life and all its powers;

Be with us in our morning time,

And bless our evening hours.

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In wisdom let us grow,

As years and strength are given,

That we may serve thy Church below,

And join thy Saints in heaven.

Above:  Icon of Christ Pantocrator

Scan by Kenneth Randolph Taylor

Hymn Source = Hymns of the Ages for Public and Social Worship (1891), Presbyterian Church in the United States

Text (1851) by John Hampden Gurney (1802-1862)

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We saw Thee not when Thou didst come

To this poor world of sin and death,

No e’er beheld Thy humble home

In that despised Nazareth;

But we believe Thy footsteps trod

Its streets and plains, Thou Son of God.

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We did not see Thee lifted high

When foes were many, friends were few,

Nor heard Thy meek, imploring cry,

“Forgive, they know not what they do:”

Yet we believe, the deed was done,

Which shook the earth and veiled the sun.

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We stood not by the empty tomb

Where once Thy sacred body lay,

Nor sat within that upper room,

Nor met Thee in the open way;

But we believe that angels said,

“Why seek the living with the dead?”

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We did not mark the chosen few,

When Thou didst through the clouds ascend,

First lift to heaven their wondering view,

Then to the earth all prostrate bend;

Yet we believe that mortal eyes

Beheld that journey to the skies.

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And now that Thou dost reign on high,

And thence Thy waiting people bless,

No ray of glory from the sky

Doth shine upon our wilderness;

But we believe Thy faithful word,

And trust in our redeeming Lord.

Above:  Icon of the Crucifixion, by Andrei Rublev

Image in the Public Domain

Hymn Source = The Hymnal (1895), Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A.

Text (1838) by John Hampden Gurney (1802-1862)

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Lord, as to Thy dear cross we flee,

And plead to be forgiven,

So let Thy life our pattern be,

And from our souls for heaven.

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Help us, through good report and ill,

Our daily cross to bear;

Like Thee, to do our Father’s will,

Our brethren’s griefs to share.

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Let grace our selfishness expel,

Our earthliness refine;

And kindness in our bosoms dwell,

As free and true as Thine.

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If joy shall at Thy bidding fly,

And grief’s dark day come on,

We, in our turn, would meekly cry,

“Father, Thy will be done.”

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Should friends misjudge, or foes defame,

Or brethren faithless prove,

Then, like Thine own, be all our aim

To conquer them by love.

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Kept peaceful in the midst of strife,

Forgiving and forgiven,

O may we lead the pilgrim’s life,

And follow Thee to heaven.