1 While the days are going for the Lord be sowing,
Though the seed may often seem to fall in vain.
After toil and weeping comes the joy of reaping,
By and by we’ll gather sheaves of golden grain.
Precious grain, precious golden grain,
After toil and weeping, O the joy of reaping,
When we gather in the sheaves of golden grain.
2 Hearts that sin has broken yearn for mercy’s token,
Bear the balm of healing o’er the worldwide field;
Morning, noon and even sow to reap for heaven,
Soon will come the harvest with its priceless yield.
3 Go with comfort holy to the poor and lowly,
Help the heavy-laden, weary and oppressed;
Christ-like kindness showing seed divine be sowing,
It will surely ripen for the garners blest.
4 Sow as Christ commanded, go not empty-handed,
Or before the Master lay but worthless leaves,
Pass thro’ death’s dim portal to the life immortal
From the earthly harvest bearing golden sheaves.
Source: Songs of the Century #30