Long did the patient peasants toil (Thomas Clark)

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  • (Posted 2007-01-28)  CPDL #13503:         
Editor: Tim Henderson (submitted 2007-01-28).   Score information: A4, 1 page, 334 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Long did the patient peasants toil
Composer: Thomas Clark
Tune: Eythorn

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: SacredHymn   Meter: 86. 86 (C.M.)

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1807
Description: Tune and harmony taken from Dr. Rippon's Tunebook (13th edition): "A Selection of Psalm and Hymn Tunes from the best authors in three and four parts adapted principally to Dr Watts's Hymns and Psalms and to Dr. Rippon's Selection of Hymns containing in a greater variety than any other volume extant the most approved compositions which are used in London and throughout England; Also many original tunes never before printed, the whole forming a publication of above three hundred tunes, odes etc by John Rippon DD."

In the tune book it is set to "To praise the ever bounteous Lord My soul wake all thy pow'rs". I have set it to the Harvest hymn "Long did the patient peasants toil" (in Rippon's Selection, Hymn 505 2nd part).

A version of this tune (Hymn Tune Index tune number 12287) with instrumental symphonies was also included by Clark in his book A Fourth Set of Psalm Tunes [c1810], as a setting of Ps. 105 New Version, O render thanks and bless the Lord.

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

Long did the patient peasants toil
And wait for plenteous crops;
Heaven on their labours deign'd to smile,
Nor would deceive their hopes.

Rich were the fields of waving corn
Which recompens'd their care;
And to their barns in safety borne,
Crown'd the revolving year.

And now their annual labours o'er,
With joy we see them come,
In triumph view their precious store,
And hail the harvest home.


Not theirs alone heaven's gracious care,
Nor theirs alone the song ;
We in its bounties richly share,
And we'll the notes prolong.

God of our mercies! let each voice
Unite to sound thy praise;
And Britain's utmost coasts rejoice
In thine abounding grace.

Since all we have to thee we owe,
May we be wholly thine;
And serve thee first in worlds below,
And then in realms divine.