1 He that goeth forth with weeping,
Sowing precious seed in love,
Never tiring, never sleeping,
Findeth blessing from above.

2 Soft descend the dews of heaven,
Bright the rays celestial shine;
Precious fruits will thus be given
Through an influence all divine.

3 Sow thy seed, be never weary,
Let no fears thy soul annoy;
Be the prospect ne’er so dreary,
Thou shalt reap the fruits in joy.

4 God but uses thee as sower,
Puts the seed into thy hand;
Sow thou then, let Him be Mower,
Till thou reap in fatherland.