Come, sing a song of harvest, Of thanks for daily food!
To offer God the first-fruits is old as gratitude.

Long, long ago, the reapers, before they kept the feast,
Put first-fruits in a basket, and took it to the priest.

Shall we, sometimes forgetful oh where creation starts,
With science in our pockets lose wonder from our hearts?

May God, the great Creator, to whom all life belongs,
Accept these gifts we offer, our service and our songs.

And lest the world go hungry while we ourselves are fed,
Make each of us more ready to share our daily bread.