770. C. M. Mrs. Sigourney.

The Sower and the Seed.

1All hail! ye servants of the Lord!

On mercy's mission bound;

Who, like the sower of the word,

Strew precious gifts around.

2What though your seed 'mid thorns be sown,

Where tares and brambles thrive,

Still One is able, One alone,

To save its germ alive.

3Ye fear, what falls on stony earth

Will mock your prayerful toil;

But sometimes plants of holiest birth

Bear fruit in sterile soil.

4The seed that by the way-side fell,

Perchance you counted dead;

Yet birds, that sing in heaven, may tell,

They on its sweetness fed.

5And some a hundred fold shall bear,

To glorify the Lord;

How blessed, then, will be your care!

How glorious your reward!

The Sower and his Sheaves.

1He, that goeth forth with weeping,

Bearing still the precious seed,

Never tiring, never sleeping,

Soon shall see his toil succeed:

Showers of rain will fall from heaven,

Then the cheering sun will shine,

So shall plenteous fruit be given,

Through an influence all divine.

2Sow thy seed, be never weary,

Let not fear thy mind employ;

Though the prospect be most dreary,

Thou may'st reap the fruits of joy:

Lo! the scene of verdure bright'ning,

See the rising grain appear;

Look again! the fields are whit'ning,

Harvest-time is surely near.