Thine was the seed-time: God alone
Beholds the end of what is sown;
Beyond our vision, weak and dim,
The harvest-time is hid with Him.
Yet, unforgotten where it lies,
That seed of generous sacrifice,
Though teeming on the desert cast,
Shall rise with bloom and fruit at last.
J. G. Whittier.
Amesbury, Second. mo. 18th, 1852.