Oh, scatter seeds of loving deeds
Along the fertile field,
For grain will grow from what you sow,
And fruitful harvest yield.
Then day by day along your way,
The seeds of promise cast,
That ripened grain, from hill and plain,
Be gathered home at last.
Tho’ sown in tears thro’ weary years,
The seed will surely live;
Tho’ great the cost, it is not lost,
For God will fruitage give.
The harvest home of God will come,
And after toil and care;
With joy untold your sheaves of gold
Will all be garnered there.