[verse1] The fields are bare, the barns are full, the days grow short, the nights turn cool. We thank the earth, the sky, the rain, for every sheaf of golden grain. [verse2] The river's gift, the forest's store, the fisherman's and farmer's chore. All gathered here to share and feast, and bless the land from west to east. [verse3] With pumpkins bright and cider warm, we tell of storms the crops withstood. The hearth is lit, the shadows creep, but winter waits while children sleep. [chorus] O Harvest Home, O table spread, with fruits and grain and crusty bread. May every heart hold plenty near, to last until the spring is here.
