Prior / Elvey-Alford When the marigold no longer blooms When summer sun is turned to gloom See the forecast winter snow See the evergreen that lonely grows Move close to the fireplace Neglect the garden See the ground harden At a ghostly place The golden summer sun is silver now The fruit has fallen from the bough The season moves to chestnut time Toffee apples, treacle and mulled wine Quilts and furs and woolens gay, You wrap around you. But the cold confounds you, On an autumn day. Stout and strong the walls of home and hearth Curtains drawn against the draft The rake has reaped, the blade has mown Nights draw in to call the harvest home The quiet of a heart at rest In peace abounded By love surrounded Here the home is blest Harvest home Come, ye thankful people, come Raise the song of harvest home All be safely gathered in Ere the winter storms begin God, our maker doth provide For our wants to be supplied Come, ye thankful people, come Raise the song of harvest home