Go forth to sow, O sowers,
‘Tis precious seed ye bear!
Where lie the plow’s deep furrows,
Scatter it in with care.
So broadcast by the wayside—
Some among thorns may fall,
Some in God’s fenced gardens—
He keepeth watch o’er all.
Blessed if “by all waters,”
Ye have the heart to sow;
See! oxen “strong to labor,”
Forth to this service go:
Though patient toil is needed,
None can too slowly be—
Too much despised, O Master,
To do Thy work for Thee.
O sowers, be not weary,
The Lord hath need of you;
Keep ever ‘mid your labor
The harvest day in view;
The Lord will guide your footsteps,
He’ll teach you where to go,
Ye shall return with singing,
Who erst in tears did sow.
Whence the wind comes up ye know not
Nor whither it may blow,
Watch not the clouds above you,
Your part is but to sow.
God freely gives His sunshine,
He sends His rain in showers;
Sow the small seed, have patience,
And He will bring the flowers.
Morn is the time of sowing,
Toward night is not too late;
No laborer, willing-hearted,
Need linger at the gate.
Go forth, go forth, O sowers!
‘Tis precious Seed ye bear;
Go at your Master’s bidding,
The “field” is everywhere.