God, Crea­tor and Pre­serv­er!
God, who feed­est man and beast;
God, whose ten­der mer­cy car­eth
For the weak­est and the least;

If in for­mer times of glad­ness,
In the full­ness of our bread,
Harvest gifts to Thee we of­fered
Harvest songs to Thee we said;

Shall we not in trust­ful pa­tience
Cast our care up­on Thee now?
Shall we not in meek obe­di­ence
To Thy right­eous judg­ments bow?

Though the earth with­hold her in­crease,
Though the heav­en re­strain its dew,
Though his hand the reap­er fill not,
Yet we know that Thou art true.

Not in vain the migh­ty pro­mise,
From be­neath the Bow of Peace,
Told us, while the earth re­main­eth,
Seed-time, har­vest, shall not cease.

But our sins have stayed Thy bless­ing,
Our re­bel­lions drawn Thy sword;
Pity now Thy mourn­ing people;
Think upon Thy co­ve­nant, Lord.

So the sun­shine of Thy boun­ty
Once again shall dry our tears;
And Thy gra­cious hand re­store us
All our cank­er-eat­en years.