The sower hid the grain,
Thy goodness marked its secret birth,
And sent the early rain.
3 The spring’s sweet influence, Lord, was thine,
Its mild, refreshing showers;
Thou gavest the ripening suns to shine,
And summer’s golden hours.
4 Thy quickening life, for ever near,
Matured the swelling grain;
The bounteous harvest crowns the year,