The Sower and the Seed.
1 All hail! ye servants of the Lord!
On mercy's mission bound;
Who, like the sower of the word,
Strew precious gifts around.
2 What though your seed 'mid thorns be sown,
Where tares and brambles thrive,
Still One is able, One alone,
To save its germ alive.
3 Ye fear, what falls on stony earth
Will mock your prayerful toil;
But sometimes plants of holiest birth
Bear fruit in sterile soil.
4 The seed that by the way-side fell,
Perchance you counted dead;
Yet birds, that sing in heaven, may tell,
They on its sweetness fed.
5 And some a hundred fold shall bear,
To glorify the Lord;
How blessed, then, will be your care!
How glorious your reward!