Seed-time and harvest.

FOUNTAIN of mercy, God of love, How rich thy bounties are! The changing seasons as they move, Proclaim thy constant care.

When in the bosom of the earth The sower hid the grain, Thy goodness marked its secret birth, And sent the early rain.

The spring's sweet influence, Lord, was thine; The plants in beauty grew; Thou gav'st refulgent suns to shine. And soft, refreshing dew.

These varied mercies, from above, Matur'd the swelling grain: A kindly harvest crowns thy love, And plenty fills the plain.

We own and bless thy gracious sway. Thy hand all nature hails: Seed time nor harvest, night nor day, Summer nor winter fails.