Scripture Verse

The harvest is the end of the world; and the reapers are the angels. Matthew 13:39


Words: Mar­ga­ret A. Head­lam, cir­ca 1862. These words were writ­ten for a Har­vest Fes­tiv­al in the par­ish of Whorl­ton, Dur­ham, Eng­land, and pub­lished in a pri­vat­ely print­ed sup­ple­ment to Pott’s Hymns. They were was al­so given in Church Hymns (So­ci­ety for Pro­mot­ing Chris­tian Know­ledge, 1871).

Music: Lang­ka­wi Al­bert Lowe (1840–1886) (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know where to get a good pho­to of Head­lam or Lowe (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),


Holy is the seed-time, when the bur­ied grain
Sinks to sleep in dark­ness, but to wake again.
Holy is the spring­time, when the liv­ing corn,
Bursting from its pris­on, ris­eth like the morn.

Holy is the har­vest, when each rip­ened ear,
Bending to the sick­le, crowns the gold­en year;
Store them in our gar­ners; win­now them with care;
Give to God the glo­ry in our praise and pray­er.

Holy seed our Mas­ter sow­eth in His field;
Be the harve­st ho­ly which our hearts shall yield;
Be our bod­ies ho­ly, rest­ing in the clay,
Till the Re­sur­rect­ion sum­mons them away.

Glory to the Fa­ther, who be­held our need;
Glory to the Sav­ior, who hath sown the seed;
Glory to the Spir­it, giv­ing the in­crease;
Glory, as it has been, is, and ne’er shall cease!