 | Poems of home and country |  |
212
SOWING AND REAPING.
As whitening fields of precious grain
On sunny hills expand,
The world's wide harvest, fully ripe,
Waits for the reaper's hand.
On sunny hills expand,
The world's wide harvest, fully ripe,
Waits for the reaper's hand.
But who shall reap the joyful crop?
And who with gladness sing,
When he that sowed with tears and hope
His sheaves shall homeward bring?
And who with gladness sing,
When he that sowed with tears and hope
His sheaves shall homeward bring?
Each lowly toiler o'er earth's waste,
Through paths of sadness led,
Shall bring some crown at last to rest
On our Immanuel's head.
Through paths of sadness led,
Shall bring some crown at last to rest
On our Immanuel's head.
Then be our path through sun or shade,
Be dark or bright our way,
We toil in hope and love, till dawns
Heaven's pure and perfect day.
Be dark or bright our way,
We toil in hope and love, till dawns
Heaven's pure and perfect day.
Then he that sowed on distant hills,
In humble faith and prayer,
And he that reaped in fields at home,
Shall sing together there.
In humble faith and prayer,
And he that reaped in fields at home,
Shall sing together there.
Sower and reaper, from their Lord,
Shall hear the joyful “Come!”
Sower and reaper meet and sing
Heaven's glorious “Harvest-home.”
Shall hear the joyful “Come!”
Sower and reaper meet and sing
Heaven's glorious “Harvest-home.”
| Poems of home and country | |