He will thoroughly purge His floor, and gather His wheat into the garner; but He will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.
Matthew 3:12
Words: Eliza M. Sherman, in Fount of Blessing, edited by Robert G. Staples (Chicago, Illinois: Central Book Concern, 1880), page 143.
Music: Benjamin C. Unseld (🔊 pdf nwc).
If you know where to get a good photo of Sherman (head & shoulders, at least 200×300 pixels),
Long, O Master, in Thy vineyard
Thro’ the dust and heat of day,
I have toiled, and with my burden,
Come I now thro’ shadows gray.
Refrain
Toiling in Thy vineyard
All day long with weary feet,
Glad to rest when evening cometh,
And the hours are cool and sweet.
Tangled vines and faded flowers
Hidden lie among my sheaves,
Look’st Thou sorrowful, O Master?
Is there nothing there but leaves?
Refrain
Purge, Thou, then, the sheaves so worthless,
That I lay at Thy dear feet,
So they yield Thee at the harvest
Only finest of the wheat.
Refrain