Sow in the Morn Thy Seed

Sow in the morn thy seed

At eve hold not thy hand;

To doubt and fear give thou no heed

Broadcast it o’er the land.

Thou know’st not which may thrive

The late or ear­ly sown;

God keeps His pre­cious seed alive

When and wher­ev­er thrown.

And du­ly shall ap­pear

In ver­dure

beau­ty

strength

The ten­der blade

the stalk

the ear

And the full corn at length.

Thou canst not toil in vain;

Cold

heat

and moist

and dry

Shall fos­ter and ma­ture the grain

For gar­ners in the sky.

Thence

when the glo­ri­ous end

The day of God is come

The an­gel reap­ers shall des­cend

And Heav’n cry

Har­vest Home.