Oh God! by whom the seed is giv’n;
By whom the harvest blest;
Whose word, like manna show’red from Heav’n,
Is planted in our breast;
Preserve it from the passing feet,
And plunderers of the air;
The sultry sun’s intenser heat,
And weeds of worldly care!
Though buried deep or thinly strown,
Do Thou Thy grace supply;
The hope in earthly furrows sown
Shall ripen in the sky!