Seedtime and Harvest

As pil­grims and strang­ers we jour­ney thro’ life

Thro’ sun­shine and sha­dow

thro’ calm and thro’ strife;

Each day we are scat­ter­ing seed as we go;

Some day ’twill be har­vest—we reap what we sow.

Tho’ wea­ry and worn and alone in your way

And storm clouds are ga­ther­ing dark in your day

Weep not

toil­ing one

nei­ther faint as you go;

The har­vest is near­ing—we reap what we sow.

Tho’ life may ap­pear as a cold bar­ren waste

And comes no re­turn of the bread you have cast

Continue to do lov­ing deeds as you go;

The har­vest is near­ing—we reap what we sow.

We’ll reap what we sow when the har­vest is come

Some day we shall gar­ner the deeds we have done;

Then heed not the storm nor the cold winds that blow;

Toil on till the har­vest—we reap what we sow.