And let us not be weary in well doing for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.
Related quotes
Be Not Weary
Sometimes, when I am toil-worn and aweary,
And tired out with working long and well,
And earth is dark, and skies above are dreary,
And heart and soul are all too sick to tell,
These words have come to me like angel fingers
Pressing the spirit's eyelids down in sleep,
'Oh let us not be weary in well doing,
For in due season we shall surely reap.'
Oh, blessed promise! When I seem to hear it,
Whispered by angel voices on the air,
It breathes new life and courage to my spirit,
And gives me strength to suffer and forbear.
And I can wait most patiently for harvest,
And cast my seeds, nor ever faint, nor weep,
If I know surely that my work availeth,
And in God's season, I at last shall reap.
When mind and body were borne down completely,
And I have thought my efforts were all in vain,
These words have come to me so softly, sweetly,
And whispered hope, and urged me on again.
And though my labour seems all unavailing,
And all my striving fruitless, yet the Lord
Doth treasure up each little seed I scatter,
And sometime, sometime, I shall reap the reward.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let us, therefore, not be weary of well-doing; for we shall reap an eternal harvest of comfort, if we faint not.
quote by George Whitefield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As you know
As you sow
So you reap
If you sow the wind
Be ready to reap
The whirlwind.
As you sow
So you reap
If you forgive
You get eternal peace
And salvation.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Messidor
Put in the sickles and reap;
For the morning of harvest is red,
And the long large ranks of the corn
Coloured and clothed as the morn
Stand thick in the fields and deep
For them that faint to be fed.
Let all that hunger and weep
Come hither, and who would have bread
Put in the sickles and reap.
Coloured and clothed as the morn,
The grain grows ruddier than gold,
And the good strong sun is alight
In the mists of the day-dawn white,
And the crescent, a faint sharp horn,
In the fear of his face turns cold
As the snakes of the night-time that creep
From the flag of our faith unrolled.
Put in the sickles and reap.
In the mists of the day-dawn white
That roll round the morning star,
The large flame lightens and grows
Till the red-gold harvest-rows,
Full-grown, are full of the light
As the spirits of strong men are,
Crying, Who shall slumber or sleep?
Who put back morning or mar?
Put in the sickles and reap.
Till the red-gold harvest-rows
For miles through shudder and shine
In the wind's breath, fed with the sun,
A thousand spear-heads as one
Bowed as for battle to close
Line in rank against line
With place and station to keep
Till all men's hands at a sign
Put in the sickles and reap.
A thousand spear-heads as one
Wave as with swing of the sea
When the mid tide sways at its height;
For the hour is for harvest or fight
In face of the just calm sun,
As the signal in season may be
And the lot in the helm may leap
When chance shall shake it; but ye,
Put in the sickles and reap.
For the hour is for harvest or fight
To clothe with raiment of red;
O men sore stricken of hours,
Lo, this one, is not it ours
To glean, to gather, to smite?
Let none make risk of his head
Within reach of the clean scythe-sweep,
When the people that lay as the dead
Put in the sickles and reap.
Lo, this one, is not it ours,
Now the ruins of dead things rattle
As dead men's bones in the pit,
Now the kings wax lean as they sit
Girt round with memories of powers,
With musters counted as cattle
And armies folded as sheep
Till the red blind husbandman battle
Put in the sickles and reap?
Now the kings wax lean as they sit,
The people grow strong to stand;
The men they trod on and spat,
The dumb dread people that sat
As corpses cast in a pit,
Rise up with God at their hand,
And thrones are hurled on a heap,
And strong men, sons of the land,
Put in the sickles and reap.
The dumb dread people that sat
All night without screen for the night,
All day without food for the day,
They shall give not their harvest away,
They shall eat of its fruit and wax fat:
They shall see the desire of their sight,
Though the ways of the seasons be steep,
They shall climb with face to the light,
Put in the sickles and reap.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faint and Weary Toiled a Pilgrim
'Faint and weary toiled a pilgrim,
Faint and weary of his load;
Sudden came a sweet bird winging
Glad and swift across his road.
''Blessed songster!' cried the pilgrim,
'Where is now the load I bore?
I forget it in thy singing;
Hearing thee, I faint no more,'
'While he spoke the bird went winging
Higher still, and soared away;
'Cruel songster!' cried the pilgrim,
'Cruel songster not to stay!'
'Was the songster cruel? Never!
High above some other road
Glad and swift he still was singing,
Lightening other pilgrims' load!'
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dry and Thirsty Land
Parched and barren,
A dry and thirsty land
Filled with the haze of death
The forgotten bones of man
The tongue swells in the mouth
The sweat pours out his brow
Weary traveller falling down
Weary traveller dying now
The white bleached bones
The bones of those before
Lie about him spinning round
Bleached bones on the desert floor
His brown shrivelled skin
Turns black under the sun
He is lost and doomed
What is done is done
Thou are cruel, Dry thirsty land,
Slowly killing those who flee
Drying them from the inside
A miserable gutted tragedy
Weary traveller, there is rest
There is rest for you head
There is a place where you can rest
Where you can drink and be fed
Don’t push on any longer
For the dry thirsty land
Will eventually be stronger
Than thy inner man
Come to the one oasis
That inhabits this world
Find the well of water
From which life doth unfurl
Come thou weary and faint
Sojourners in a dry weary place
Come thou empty and dead
Come with all due haste
Come to the well
Strength and energy it gives
Come to the well
If you want to live
Come if you feel tired
Come if you need a refresh
Come if you need life
Come if you want energy afresh
A well for all who wish
A dry and thirsty land
Come thou faint
Come thou weary man
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Grim Reaper
The Grim Reaper will for sure, gather men who deny The Lord,
He will soon come without delay, taking unbelieving men away.
They’ll be taken and put aside, for it was The Lord, they denied.
Separated per their own desire; to be cast into the Lake of Fire.
Men shall reap what they sow; this is something all men know.
Deny God by human deduction, you will reap eternal destruction.
If you choose to accept The Lord, you will reap Eternal Reward.
The end result you will receive, for God is one you can’t deceive.
The Lord will not force your hand, but will help you to understand,
That Christ, who died upon a tree, is coming back for you and me.
First it’ll be to the clouds above, for those who received His Love.
Then down to the earth in victory, over those who refused to see.
But there is still an open door, and time to accept Christ as Lord.
And any time in any season, God with you, would like to reason,
That through His Only Son, your victory over sin has been won.
And that through Jesus Christ, you friend can have the gift of life.
Although I was once deceived, God’s Spirit spoke and I believed.
God then gave me eyes to see, now in Christ I will reap Eternity.
God wants no one to perish, and His Son He gave us to cherish.
But if you want not to believe, the Grim Reaper is who you’ll see.
When The Sleepy Man Comes
When the Sleepy Man comes with the dust on his eyes,
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
He shuts up the earth, and he opens the skies.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)
He smiles through his fingers, and shuts up the sun;
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
The stars that he loves he lets out one by one.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)
He comes from the castles of Drowsy-boy Town;
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
At the touch of his hand the tired eyelids fall down.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)
He comes with a murmur of dream in his wings;
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
And whispers of mermaids and wonderful things.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)
Then the top is a burden, the bugle a bane;
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
When one would be faring down Dream-a-way Lane.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)
When one would be wending in Lullaby Wherry,
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
To Sleepy Man's Castle, by Comforting Ferry.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)
poem by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saawan Season!
Here come now
the teeming clouds of saawan season
for weary, dry and thirsty soil
bring the message
from the worthy sacred Heaven
the teeming clouds of Saawan season...
they shower kind and gentle rain
fast in speed
but mild in temper
and change in a while entire vision
the teeming clouds of Saawan season...
but-that's a fact
with flowers' smile and pleasant scent,
with eyes' glow and hearts' glee
there's a fear and a wish beside
' May He save us from destruction
of teeming clouds of Saawan season...'
poem by Shahzia Batool
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perfect Day
Just a perfect day..
Drink sangria in the park
And later, when it gets dark
We go home
Just a perfect day..
Feed animals in the zoo
And later, a movie too
And then home
Its such a perfect day
Im glad I spent it with you
Such a perfect day
You just keep me hanging on..
You just keep me hanging on..
Just a perfect day..
Problems all left alone
Weekenders on our own
Such fun
Just a perfect day
You made me forget myself
I thought I was someone else
Someone new
(chorus)
-
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Rock In A Weary Land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
None of this moves me,
I should be weeping but it only hurts when I yawn
I let it blow through me, and its gone!
Im dressed like a scarecrow
Stripped of all my power, as if some judge in judgement said
Off with his great coat, and his head!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Meaningless movies
On the screen behind the band thats blowing flowing shapes
Half of their music is on tape
My mentor and champion is busy tilting at the windows of his stately home
The daemon hes grappling
Is his own!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
His letter lies open
His accusations flow like poison from his every word
My heart would be broken, but for her
The fag-end of winter
Im in shock! Im on the ropes! I dont know whats become!
She plucks the splinter from my thumb
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
In the weary land!
My rock in a weary land
My rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land
Hey!
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock In The Weary Land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
None of this moves me,
I should be weeping but it only hurts when I yawn
I let it blow through me, and its gone!
Im dressed like a scarecrow
Stripped of all my power, as if some judge in judgement said
Off with his great coat, and his head!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Meaningless movies
On the screen behind the band thats blowing flowing shapes
Half of their music is on tape
My mentor and champion is busy tilting at the windows of his stately home
The daemon hes grappling
Is his own!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
His letter lies open
His accusations flow like poison from his every word
My heart would be broken, but for her
The fag-end of winter
Im in shock! Im on the ropes! I dont know whats become!
She plucks the splinter from my thumb
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
In the weary land!
My rock in a weary land
My rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land
Hey!
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock In The Weary Land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
None of this moves me,
I should be weeping but it only hurts when I yawn
I let it blow through me, and its gone!
Im dressed like a scarecrow
Stripped of all my power, as if some judge in judgement said
Off with his great coat, and his head!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Meaningless movies
On the screen behind the band thats blowing flowing shapes
Half of their music is on tape
My mentor and champion is busy tilting at the windows of his stately home
The daemon hes grappling
Is his own!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
His letter lies open
His accusations flow like poison from his every word
My heart would be broken, but for her
The fag-end of winter
Im in shock! Im on the ropes! I dont know whats become!
She plucks the splinter from my thumb
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
In the weary land!
My rock in a weary land
My rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land
Hey!
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The law of harvest is to reap more than you sow. Sow an act, and you reap a habit. Sow a habit and you reap a character. Sow a character and you reap a destiny.
quote by James Allen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Patience Chest of Riches
Might the earth mount to reap
Of the heaven mother's water's it's lip
Hasty as fire, all to drip
silent sea, must it doth grip
If pond's earth, nay must reap from the hip
And treasures be it's heir to reap
poem by Muhammad Abdullah B. Kutigi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We The Cats (Shall Hep Ya)
(words and music by Cab Calloway and Jack Palmer)
And the time is right
And tonight's the night
Alreed-alright
Come on, old man, come on
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Here's the beat to hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Well, you gotta come on like GI's
You dig the repeat with me and sigh
Put it right on the lee high
Then you can really get by, oh my
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Now you're hep I'll betcha
So reap this righteous riff
Well, we the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Here's the beat to hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Well, you gotta come on like GI's
You dig the repeat with me and sigh
Put it right on the lee high
Then you can really get by, oh my
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Now you're hep I'll betcha
So reap this righteous riff
(instrumnetal break)
Well, we the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Here's the beat to hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Well, you gotta come on like GI's
You dig the repeat with me and sigh
Put it right on the lee high
Then you can really get by, oh my
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Now you're hep I'll betcha
Skibble-de-dooba
Skibble-de-boy-boy
Skibble-de-reeba
This righteous, this righteous riff
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Growing Season
The seasons work together
To make the world possible
Summer, the sun season
Fall, the leaf season
Winter, the snow season
And spring, the time of beauty
Summer, the yellow season
Fall, the orange season
Winter, the white season
And spring, the time of the rainbow
Summer, the blank season
Fall, the shadow season
Winter, the dying season
And spring, the growing season
The growing season
Waiting
The sun has slipped his tether
And galloped down the west.
(Oh, it's weary, weary waiting, love.)
The little bird is sleeping
In the softness of its nest.
Night follows day, day follows dawn,
And so the time has come and gone:
And it's weary, weary waiting, love.
The cruel wind is rising
With a whistle and a wail.
(And it's weary, weary waiting, love.)
My eyes are seaward straining
For the coming of a sail;
But void the sea, and void the beach
Far and beyond where gaze can reach!
And it's weary, weary waiting, love.
I heard the bell-buoy ringing--
How long ago it seems!
(Oh, it's weary, weary waiting, love.)
And ever still, its knelling
Crashes in upon my dreams.
The banns were read, my frock was sewn;
Since then two seasons' winds have blown--
And it's weary, weary waiting, love.
The stretches of the ocean
Are bare and bleak to-day.
(Oh, it's weary, weary waiting, love.)
My eyes are growing dimmer--
Is it tears, or age, or spray?
But I will stay till you come home.
Strange ships come in across the foam!
But it's weary, weary waiting, love.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Turn Turn Turn
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracings
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is A Season)
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracings
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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