NOVEMBER. 



TWO-PART SONGS. 



The treasures of golden September That grew in the sunshine of May, 

 Are strewn in the lap of November, The month with the Thanksgiving Day. 



The work of the reapers is over, The harvest is all gathered in, 



The wheat and the barley and clover, Ere the storms of the winter begin. 



Be thankful, and ever remember Whose hand strewed the gifts by your way, 

 Who filleth the lap of November, The month with the Thanksgiving Day. 



HYMN FOR THANKSGIVING. 



SUPPLEMENTARY SONG SERIES No. 3. 

 This day, our fathers set apart for earnest gratitude, 

 Calls once again on every heart for thankfulness renewed. 

 We thank Thee for the golden field that fills the bounteous bin, 

 For all the good earth's outward yield and for the love within. 



We know that Thou from first to last hast blessed, O Lord, our time 

 We thank Thee for our country's past and for its noble prime; 

 We thank Thee for the golden field that fills the bounteous bin, 

 For all the good earth's outward yield and for the love within. 



THANKSGIVING SONG. 



TEACHERS' EDITION. 



I. 



The apples have been gathered, And piled m ruddy heaps, 

 And down among the grasses, The purple aster sleeps. 

 We've brought the glossy chestnuts, From hillsides far and near, 

 And soon it will be coming, The glad day of the year. 



II. 



Thanksgiving day is coming, The glad Thanksgiving day! 

 We count the nights and mornings That slowly pass away. 

 We'll have a merry frolic, When it at last is here ; 

 When harvests all are gathered, And winter days are near. 



NUTTING SONG. 



LEAFLET VI. 



Now the woods are prime for the nutting time, The merriest time of all ; 

 When we children dare with the squirrel share The frolic and feast of fall ! 

 Tho' the frost folk white were abroad last night, The morning is blue and gold ; 

 Come, away we'll troop in a jolly group, Where the chestnut burrs unfold. 



The hickory stands, gems in his hands, The hazel hides jewels brown; 

 Sweet music make, as the trees we shake, And they tinkle and twinkle down. 

 In that tingling chime of the autumn time, So full of the fall's crisp cheer, 

 When we gather health, with the wood's ripe wealth, In this blithest time o' year ! 



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