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It May Not Be Our Lot to Wield

Author: John G Whittier, 1807-1892 Hymnal: The A.M.E. Zion Hymnal #437 (1999) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: 1 It may not be our lot to wield The sickle in the ripened field; Nor ours to hear, on summer eves, The reaper's song among the sheaves. 2 Yet where our duty's task is wrought In unison with God's great thought, The near and future blend in one, And whatsoe'er is willed, is done. 3 And ours the grateful service whence Comes, day by day, the recompense; The hope, the trust, the purpose stayed, The fountain, and the noonday shade. 4 And were this life the utmost span, The only end and aim of man, Better the toil of fields like these Than waking dream and slothful ease. 5 But life, though falling like our grain, Like that revives and springs again; And, early called, how blest are they Who wait in heaven their harvest day! AMEN. Topics: The Call to Service Languages: English Tune Title: ABENDS

It may not be our lot to wield

Author: J. G. Whittier, 1807-1892 Hymnal: Methodist Hymn and Tune Book #363 (1917) Lyrics: 1 It may not be our lot to wield The sickle in the ripened field; Nor ours to hear, on summer eves, The reaper's song among the sheaves. 2 Yet where our duty's task is wrought In unison with God's great thought, The near and future blend in one, And whatsoe'er is willed, is done. 3 And ours the grateful service whence Comes, day by day, the recompense; The hope, the trust, the purpose stayed, The fountain, and the noonday shade. 4 And were this life the utmost span, The only end and aim of man, Better the toil of fields like these Than waking dream and slothful ease. 5 But life, though falling like our grain, Like that revives and springs again; And, early called, how blest are they Who wait in heaven their harvest day! Topics: Daily Duty; Daily Duty; The Church and the Kingdom of God Social Service; Faithfulness Under trial; Duty; Faithfulness To Daily Duty Languages: English Tune Title: METROPOLITAN CHURCH

It May Not Be Our Lot

Author: John G. Whittier Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #3111 Meter: 8.8.8.8 First Line: It may not be our lot to wield Lyrics: 1. It may not be our lot to wield The sickle in the ripened field; Nor ours to hear, on summer eves, The reaper’s song among the sheaves. 2. Yet where our duty’s task is wrought In unison with God’s great thought, The near and future blend in one, And whatsoe’er is willed, is done. 3. And ours the grateful service whence Comes, day by day, the recompense; The hope, the trust, the purpose stayed, The fountain, and the noonday shade. 4. And were this lift the utmost span, The only end and aim of man, Better the toil of fields like these Than waking dream and slotfhful ease. 5. But life, though falling like our grain, Like that revives and springs again; And, early called, how blest are they Who wait in heaven, their harvest day! The opening of Whittier’s original poem: 1. As o’er his furrowed fields which lie Beneath a coldly-dropping sky, Yet chill with winter’s melted snow, The husbandman goes forth to sow. 2. Thus, Freedom, on the bitter blast The ventures of thy seed we cast, And trust to warmer sun and rain, To swell the germs and fill the grain. 3. Who calls thy glorious service hard? Who deems it not its own reward? Who, for its trials, counts it less A cause of praise and thankfulness? Languages: English Tune Title: ERNAN