Sow On

Oft’times we grow discouraged

With children full of pranks,

With mothers who are gossips,

And fathers who are cranks;

With folks who let us do the work

While they sit back at leisure

And never even voice a thought–

Unless it be displeasure;

With some who criticize us

Because we did not call,

And some who claim we think we’re good

And really aren’t at all!

With some who think we are too bold,

And some that we’re too shy,

And some we cannot please at all

No matter how we try.

But is this not our Father’s work?

‘Twas He who bid us go–

The harvesting will be for Him,

Our work is but to sow.

And he that goeth forth in tears,

Still sowing though he grieves,

Shall doubtless come again in joy

And bring forth precious sheaves.