Harvest Time
He that goeth forth with weeping,
1
He that goeth forth with weeping,Bearing precious seed in love,Never tiring, never sleeping,Findeth mercy from above.
Chorus.
Lo, the scene of verdure bright'ning!See the rising grain appear;Look! the waving fields are whit'ning,For the harvest time is near.
2
Soft descend the dews of heaven,Bright the rays celestial shine;Precious fruits will thus be given,Thro' an influence all divine.
3
Sow thy seed, be never weary,Let no fears thy soul annoy;Be the prospect ne'er so dreary,Thou shalt reap the fruits of joy.