In the morn­ing, when the dew is spark­ling,
Sow thy seed—sow thy seed;
Ere the sun, too red­ly glow­ing;
Ere the wind, too rough­ly blow­ing,
Blight the ten­der germ, and thus thy sow­ing,
Be in vain, be in vain.

When with wel­come show’rs the earth is wa­tered,
Sow thy seed—sow thy seed;
That the gen­tle rain dis­till­ing;
All the germ with new life fil­ling,
Bring a glad­some har­vest for thy till­ing,
Rich and rare, rich and rare.

With a heart where hope and love are dwell­ing,
Sow thy seed—sow thy seed;
Let not ear­nest zeal be want­ing;
Press through tri­als, no­thing daunt­ing,
Trusting in the bless­èd Lord for grant­ing
Thy re­quest, thy re­quest.

In life’s morn­ing, when the heart is ten­der,
Sow thy seed—sow thy seed,
And the ground, thy words re­ceiv­ing,
May through hum­ble faith, be­liev­ing,
Blossom rich and fair in gar­nered sheav­ing,
Fair to view, fair to view.

Teacher, strong in faith and ear­nest ef­fort,
Sow thy seed—sow thy seed;
Be thy task with pray­er anoint­ed;
Steadfast at thy post ap­point­ed,
Find at last the glo­ri­ous har­vest grant­ed,
Thy re­ward, thy re­ward.

In the name of Christ, thy Lord and mas­ter,
Sow thy seed—sow thy seed;
He a lov­ing watch is keep­ing;
He to joy will change thy weep­ing,
And in Heav’n be­hold with joy the reap­ing,
Of thy toil, of thy toil!