He that goeth forth with weeping, Bearing precious seed in love, Never tiring, never sleeping, Findeth mercy from above. Soft descend the dews of heaven, Bright the rays celestial shine; Precious fruits will thus be given Through an influence all divine. Sow thy seed; be never weary; Let no fears thy soul annoy; Be the prospect ne???er so dreary, Thou shalt reap the fruits of joy. Lo! the scene of verdure brightening, See the rising grain appear: Look again; the fields are whitening, For the harvest time is near.
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