When the marigold no longer bloomsnWhen summer sun is turned to gloomnSee the forecast winter snownSee the evergreen that lonely growsnMove closer to the fire placenNeglect the gardennSee the ground hardennAt a ghostly pacennThe golden summer sun is silver nownThe fruit has fallen from the boughnThe season moves to chestnut timenToffee apples, treacle and mulled winenQuilts and furs and woolens gaynYou wrap around younBut the cold confounds younOn an autumn daynnStout and strong the walls of home and hearthnCurtains drawn against the draftnThe rake has reaped, the blade has mownnNights draw in to call the harvest homenThe quiet of a heart at restnIn peace aboundednBy love surroundednHere the home is blessednnCome, ye thankful people, comenRaise the song of harvest homenAll be safely gathered inn'Ere the winter storms beginnGod, our maker doth providenFor our wants to be suppliednCome, ye thankful people, comenRaise the song of harvest homenRaise the song of harvest home