Saturday, July 24, 2010

Four seeds

Ye sons of earth prepare the plough,
Break up your fallow ground!
The Sower is gone forth to sow,
And scatter blessings round.

The seed that finds a stony soil
Shoots forth a hasty blade;
But ill repays the sower's toil,
Soon withered, scorched, and dead.

The thorny ground is sure to balk
All hopes of harvest there;
We find a tall and sickly stalk,
But not the fruitful ear.

The beaten path and highway side
Receive the trust in vain;
The watchful birds the spoil divide,
And pick up all the grain.

But where the Lord of grace and power
Has blessed the happy field,
How plenteous is the golden store
The deep wrought furrows yield!

Father of mercies, we have need
Of Thy preparing grace;
Let the same hand that gives me seed
Provide a fruitful place!

William Cowper (1731-1800)
Olney Hymns, 1779

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Our Heavenly Father will give us the seed to go forth as we should. How shall man use the seed which has been placed in his hand? May he be careful as not to let this precious seed be blown away before it is given a chance to develop and materialize. For one seed is useless if it lies neglected. It shall soon be for nought. For the oldest and tallest oak was once an acorn.