HARVEST-FIELD OF TIME
Children, all of us are gleaners
In the harvest-field of time;
Day by day the grain is ripening
For a sunnier clime.
Whether in the early morning,
Going forth with busy feet,
Or, as weary laborers, resting
’Mid the noon-day heat;
Let us strive, with cheerful spirits,
Each our duties to fulfil,
Till the time of harvest,—subject
To the Master’s will.
Let us garner up sweet memories,
Bound with ties of love;
Pleasant thoughts to cheer the pathway
To our home above.
Trusting that these precious gleanings,
Bound with loving hand,
May in golden sheaves be gathered
To the spirit land.
PRAYER.
Watch o’er me, Heavenly Shepherd,
Extend Thy crook of love,
That so no germ of anger
A source of trial prove.
Keep me within Thy pastures,
And feed me from Thy hand;
Let no temptation snare me,
Or tear me from Thy hand.
May innocence and purity
My clothing ever be,
That though this earth is still my home,
I may walk close to Thee.