By A Collection of Hymns

      S.M. Ecclesiastes xi. 6.
      1 SOW in the morn thy seed,
      At eve hold not thine hand;
      To doubt and fear give thou no heed,
      Broadcast it o'er the land.

      2 Beside all waters sow,
      The highway furrows stock,
      Drop it where thorns and thistles grow,
      Scatter it on the rock.

      3 The good, the fruitful ground,
      Expect not here nor there,
      O'er hill and dale, by plots 'tis found;
      Go forth then everywhere.

      4 And duly shall appear,
      In verdure, beauty, strength,
      The tender blade, the stalk, the ear,
      And the full corn at length.

      5 Thou canst not toil in vain;
      Cold, heat, and moist, and dry,
      Shall foster and mature the grain
      For garners in the sky.

      6 Thence, when the glorious end,
      The day of God is come,
      The angel-reapers shall descend,
      And heaven cry "Harvest home!"