1 The harvest dawn is near,
The year delays not long;
And he who sows with many a tear,
Shall reap with many a song.
2 Sad to his toil he goes;
His seed with weeping leaves;
But he shall come, at twilight's close,
And bring his golden sheaves.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #781