Oh, scatter seeds of loving deeds Along the fertile field ; For grain will grow from what you sow, And fruitful harvest yield.
Then day by day, . . . along your way, . . . The seeds of pro . . . mise cast, . . . That ripened grain, . . . from hill and plain, . . . Be gathered home ... at last. . . .
2. Though sown in tears through weary years, The seed will surely live ; Though great the cost, it is not lost, For God will fruitage give.
3. The harvest-home of God will come ; And after toil and care, With joy untold your sheaves of gold Will all be garnered there.