Olney Hymn 16: The Sower
Ye sons of earth prepare the plough,
Break up your fallow ground;
The sower is gone forth to sow,
And scatter blessings round.
The seed that finds a stony soil
Shoots forth a hasty blade;
But ill repays the sower's toil,
Soon wither'd, scorch'd, and dead.
The thorny ground is sure to balk
All hopes of harvest there;
We find a tall and sickly stalk,
But not the fruitful ear.
The beaten path and highway side,
Receive the trust in vain;
The watchful birds the spoil divide,
And pick up all the grain.
But where the Lord of grace and power
Has bless'd the happy field,
How plenteous is the golden store
The deep-wrought furrows yield!
Father of mercies, we have need
Of thy preparing grace;
Let the same Hand that give me seed
Provide a fruitful place!
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Sower
(Matthew, xiii.3)
Ye sons of earth prepare the plough,
Break up your fallow ground;
The sower is gone forth to sow,
And scatter blessings round.
The seed that finds a stony soil
Shoots forth a hasty blade;
But ill repays the sower's toil,
Soon wither'd, scorch'd, and dead.
The thorny ground is sure to balk
All hopes of harvest there;
We find a tall and sickly stalk,
But not the fruitful ear.
The beaten path and highway side,
Receive the trust in vain;
The watchful birds the spoil divide,
And pick up all the grain.
But where the Lord of grace and power
Has bless'd the happy field,
How plenteous is the golden store
The deep-wrought furrows yield!
Father of mercies, we have need
Of thy preparing grace;
Let the same Hand that give me seed
Provide a fruitful place!
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Field of the World
Sow in the morn thy seed,
At eve hold not thy hand;
To doubt and fear give thou no heed,
Broadcast it o’er the land.
Beside all waters sow;
The highway furrows stock;
Drop it where thorns and thistles grow;
Scatter it on the rock.
The good and fruitful ground,
Expect not here nor there;
O'er hill and dale, by plots, 'tis found;
Go forth, then, everywhere.
Thou know’st not which may thrive,
The late or early sown;
God keeps His precious seed alive,
When and wherever strown.
And duly shall appear,
In verdure, beauty, strength,
The tender blade, the stalk, the ear,
And the full corn at length.
Thou canst not toil in vain:
Cold, heat, and moist, and dry,
Shall foster and mature the grain
For garners in the sky.
Thence, when the glorious end,
The day of God is come,
The angels reapers shall descend,
And heav’n cry - 'Harvest Home.'
poem by James Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Mark (Chapter 4)
The parable of the sower:
As Jesus taught by the sea-side,
A multitude had gathered fast;
He sat on a boat at sea therefore;
While people stayed ashore!
He taught by mostly parables;
To know the Kingdom, it enables.
Behold, a sower went to sow;
Some seeds fell by the way-side but;
And quickly birds devoured them.
Some fell on stony ground, sans soil;
The seeds did sprout but didn’t have roots;
The scorching sun withered them all!
Some fell ’midst thorns, which choked them,
And they could not yield any fruits!
A few on ground fell that was good;
And yielded fruit, some many-fold.
And Jesus said:
“He that has ears, let him then hear.”
The meaning of the parable,
His disciples asked when alone.
To you is giv’n the pow’r to know
The mystery of God’s Kingdom;
To others, God explains the same,
Through stories called the parables.
Although they see, they can’t perceive;
And though they hear, can’t understand;
And when they get converted, then,
Their sins should be forgiven them.
The Sower is Almighty God;
The seed is Word of God, the Lord;
The ones that fell by way-side are
People who only hear the Word;
Yet, Satan steals their Word-sown heart!
The seeds that fall on stony ground
Are words that people gladly hear;
But since, they do not have firm roots,
They give them up, when trials come.
And those that fall amongst the thorns
Are people filled by worldly thoughts;
The thorns are riches / lusts of world,
Those harden hearts to spiritual things.
And those that fall on ground that’s good,
Are people who hear, live, obey:
Fruit-bearing, some a hundred-fold!
A Candle under a Bushel!
Is not a lamp placed on lamp-stand,
Or under bushel-basket / bed?
All things remain to become seen;
Ev’n secret things will come to light.
One who has ears, let him then hear!
The measure used will measure you.
To one who has, more is added;
From one with less, all is taken!
The Kingdom of God:
Jesus compared the Lord’s Kingdom,
Akin a man who scatters seed:
That grow on land, he knows not how,
Of own accord with ears, full-grain!
He wields the sickle all at once,
When harvest’s come and grain is ripe!
God’s Kingdom is like mustard-seed;
Although smallest, when sown in ground,
It grows to be the largest one,
With shady branches where birds nest!
Jesus always told parables,
As people understood with ease!
As evening came, then Jesus said,
“Let’s cross over to other side.”
By boat, He went; others followed.
A violent squall brought waves aboard.
The water filled the boat with ease
But Jesus was found deep asleep;
They woke him up and cried, “Teacher,
You do not care if we perish! ”
Jesus rebuked the wind and sea;
The wind soon ceased; the sea turned calm!
And Jesus asked, “Are you afraid?
You do not have enough of faith! ”
Awe-struck, they said to each other,
“Who’s He, whom wind and sea obey? ”
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sower
The winds had hushed at last as by command;
The quiet sky above,
With its grey clouds spread oer the fallow land,
Sat brooding like a dove.
There was no motion in the air, no sound
Within the tree-tops stirred,
Save when some last leaf, fluttering to the ground,
Dropped like a wounded bird.
Or when the swart rooks in a gathering crowd
With clamorous noises wheeled,
Hovering awhile, then swooped with wrangling loud
Down to the stubbly field.
For now the big-thewed horses, toiling slow
In straining couples yoked,
Patiently dragged the plowshare to and fro
Till their wet haunches smoked.
Till the stiff acre, broken into clods,
Bruised by the harrow's tooth,
Lay lightly shaken, with its humid sods
Ranged into furrows smooth.
There looming lone, from rise to set of sun,
Without or pause or speed,
Solemnly striding by the furrows dun,
The sower sows the seed.
The sower sows the seed, which mouldering,
Deep coffined in the earth,
Is buried now, but with the future spring
Will quicken into birth.
Oh, poles of birth and death! Controlling Powers
Of human toil and need!
On this fair earth all men are surely sowers,
Surely all life is seed!
All life is seed, dropped in Time's yawning furrow,
Which with slow sprout and shoot,
In the revolving world's unfathomed morrow,
Will blossom and bear fruit.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
P r a i s e
Whatever that you think you lack – give that! ’ –
this saying, heard, lodged in my mind a space;
like seed that hides in earth – yet not inert:
its hidden clock an instrument of grace;
the mind, the soil, that meanwhile, does not know:
it neither knows what lies in its embrace,
nor its own precious nutrients which grow
this seed; nor sees the Sower, nor His grace –
until one day, when in some Spring of light,
I realised: I, meanly, denied – praise:
the praise of human beings in my sight;
and thus, the praise of that One source of praise..
so sought occasion, each and All to praise;
now Praise, with golden hand, seeds all my days.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mysteries of The Kingdom
Some mysteries of The Kingdom were, given in parables for us to infer,
Some secrets of The Kingdom of God, while still upon this earthly sod.
Parables spoken by Jesus Christ, to demonstrate Truths of Eternal Life,
Hidden from the hearts and eyes; where God’s Truths are just despised.
Christ spoke of the faithful sower, planting seed for the Eternal Grower,
Then Jesus Christ went on to say, that not all seed fell in the same way,
Some fell onto the walking path, and soon destroyed, by Satan’s wrath.
Some seed fell upon the rocky soil, and with no root, soon would spoil.
Some seed fell within thorny soil, and was unfruitful because of the toil.
But in good soil some was sown, and an abundance of fruit was grown.
The Kingdom, Christ went on to say, was just like a field in another way,
Where there was good seed sown, weeds around that wheat had grown.
For the enemy had sown in the field, weeds where the crop would yield,
But to not uproot what was good, he let the weeds grow as they would.
The weeds would remain until harvest, but not to be treated as the rest,
The weeds are bundled to be burned, saving the wheat as they learned.
And in the garden is the mustard seed, with a Truth that we could heed,
Small and unimpressive in size, but, from it the largest plant would rise.
Christ spoke of yeast and its effect, in The Kingdom through the Elect,
Just as it is mixed in the dough, with the Spirit, growth begins to show.
The Kingdom’s like hidden treasure, filling the finder with such pleasure,
That he hides it again and is glad, to buy the field, spending all he had.
Like a fine pearl found by a merchant; all his property, would be spent,
To buy this one pearl of such worth, one which he found, here on earth.
The Kingdom of Heaven’s like a net, of a fisherman and all of his catch,
When it’s full and pulled to shore, it had good fish but it also had more,
The good, put into baskets to keep; the bad thrown back into the deep.
This, just like the end of this Age, with the deep being an eternal grave,
When angels gather souls of men, the righteous and those condemned,
The condemned, to fires below, while the righteous, to Heaven they go.
All these parables spoken of, illustrate The Kingdom of Heaven above,
And by Jesus Christ, are given to us, who in Him have placed our trust.
(Copyright ©01/2008)
0186 Praise
'Whatever that you think you lack - give that! ' -
this saying, heard, lodged in my mind a space;
like seed that seems inert - yet, not inert;
its hidden clock an instrument of grace;
the mind, that soil which meanwhile does not know:
it neither knows what lies in its embrace,
nor its own precious nutrients which grow
that seed; nor knows the Sower; nor His grace -
until the day that in some Spring of light,
I realised: I, meanly, denied - praise:
the praise of human beings in my sight;
and thus, the praise of that one source of praise.
so sought occasion, each and All to praise;
now Praise, with golden hand, seeds all my days.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mrs. Sibley
The secret of the stars, -- gravitation.
The secret of the earth, -- layers of rock.
The secret of the soil, -- to receive seed.
The secret of the seed, -- the germ.
The secret of man, -- the sower.
The secret of woman, -- the soil.
My secret: Under a mound that you shall never find.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Harvest
See! the corn again in ear!
How the fields and valleys smile!
Harvest now is drawing near
To repay the farmer's toil:
Gracious Lord, secure the crop,
Satisfy the poor with food;
In thy mercy is our hope,
We have sinned but thou art good.
While I view the plenteous grain
As it ripens on the stalk;
May I not instruction gain,
Helpful, to my daily walk?
All this plenty of the field
Was produced from foreign seeds;
For the earth itself would yield
Only crops of useless weeds.
Though, when newly sawn, it lay
Hid awhile beneath the ground,
Some might think it thrown away
Now a large increase is found:
Though concealed, it was not lost,
Though it died, it lives again;
Eastern storms, and nipping frosts
Have opposed its growth in vain.
Let the praise be all the Lord's,
As the benefit is ours!
He, in seasons, still affords
Kindly heat, and gentle flow'rs:
By his care the produce thrives
Waving o'er the furrowed lands;
And when harvest-time arrives,
Ready for the reaper stands.
Thus in barren hearts he sows
Precious seeds of heav'nly joy;
Sin, and hell, in vain oppose,
None can grace's crop destroy:
Threatened oft, yet still it blooms,
After many changes past,
Death, the reaper, when he comes,
Finds it fully ripe at last.
poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 68 part 3
v.19,9,20-22
L. M.
Praise for temporal blessings; or, Common and special mercies.
We bless the Lord, the just, the good,
Who fills our hearts with joy and food:
Who pours his blessings from the skies,
And loads our days with rich supplies.
He sends the sun his circuit round,
To cheer the fruits, to warm the ground;
He bids the clouds with plenteous rain
Refresh the thirsty earth again.
'Tis to his care we owe our breath,
And all our near escapes from death;
Safety and health to God belong;
He heals the weak, and guards the strong.
He makes the saint and sinner prove
The common blessings of his love;
But the wide diff'rence that remains,
Is endless joy, or endless pains.
The Lord, that bruised the serpent's head,
On all the serpent's seed shall tread;
The stubborn sinner's hope confound,
And smite him with a lasting wound.
But his right hand his saints shall raise
From the deep earth, or deeper seas,
And bring them to his courts above;
There shall they taste his special love.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soils
The soil was baked very hard and the seed bounced off
I would not listen to God and would only scoff
It was unreceptive and unrepentant ground
And no time or place for God's Word was to be found
Littered with many stones and exposing no ground
Full of crevasses but little soil was to be found
The seed fell into a crack germinating there
It grew quickly but shrivelled under the suns glare
Covered with weeds and leaving so very little soil
My life all mixed up and full of care and turmoil
The Word of God tried hard to germinate and grow
But the cares and worries of this world choked it so
The soil was prepared and I readily received
God's Word was spoken and as I heard and believed
It sprang up in my heart over many a year
And blossomed and bloomed as I saw the fruit appear
Based on the parable of the Sower (Matthew 13: 1-23)
Sonnet: The Grace of God
The grace of God is more than what we need,
To eke our livelihood, and pass our days
On earth, and propagate our human seed
On mundane soil, keeping heavenly gaze!
The grace of God is what we need in life
To do the things, we ought to do on earth,
Abide by His tenets despite all strife,
And keep the path of righteousness from birth.
The grace of God goads us to pull off feats,
Delightfully, with remarkable ease;
A hasty retreat from us, Satan beats,
As every temptation begins to cease!
The grace of God has power infinite
To make souls pure, and keep heavenly fit!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-07-12
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In Due Season
If night should come and find me at my toil,
When all Life's day I had, tho' faintly, wrought,
And shallow furrows, cleft in stony soil
Were all my labour: Shall I count it naught
If only one poor gleaner, weak of hand,
Shall pick a scanty sheaf where I have sown?
"Nay, for of thee the Master doth demand
Thy work: the harvest rests with Him alone."
poem by John McCrae
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 136 Abridged
God's wonders of creation, providence, redemption, and salvation.
Give to our God immortal praise;
Mercy and truth are all his ways:
Wonders of grace to God belong,
Repeat his mercies in your song.
Give to the Lord of lords renown,
The King of kings with glory crown:
His mercies ever shall endure,
When lords and kings are known no more.
He built the earth, he spread the sky,
And fixed the starry lights on high:
Wonders of grace to God belong,
Repeat his mercies in your song.
He fills the sun with morning light;
He bids the moon direct the night:
His mercies ever shall endure,
When suns and moons shall shine no more.
The Jews he freed from Pharaoh's hand,
And brought them to the promised land
Wonders of grace to God belong,
Repeat his mercies in your song.
He saw the Gentiles dead in sin,
And felt his pity work within
His mercies ever shall endure,
When death and sin shall reign no more.
He sent his Son with power to save
From guilt, and darkness, and the grave
Wonders of grace to God belong,
Repeat his mercies in your song.
Through this vain world he guides our feet,
And leads us to his heav'nly seat
His mercies ever shall endure,
When this vain world shall be no more.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Matthew (Chapter 13)
Out of the house, then Jesus went
That day, and by the sea, sat down;
Large crowds had gathered around Him
So, sat He in a boat off-shore,
While crowds were standing on the shore.
He spoke in detailed parables:
‘A sower, went to sow, one day,
Some seeds fell on the path, he walked
And birds ate them up, all at once.’
‘Some fell on rocky ground without
Soil adequate and sprouted but,
The soil wasn’t deep and sun that rose
Had scorched while it withered, rootless.’
‘Some seeds had fallen amidst thorns,
And with the passing of the morns,
The faster growing thorns choked them,
And there remained, just stubs of stem! ’
‘Just some seeds fell on soil-rich ground;
They grew so well and it was found
That they produced fruits many-fold
A hundred / sixty / thirty-fold! ’
‘Those who have ears, then ought to hear! ’
His disciples then questioned Him,
‘Why speak to them in parables? ’
And Jesus told them, in reply:
The kingdom’s knowledge. mystery
To you, has been by God granted,
And not to others by the Lord.’
‘To one who has, given is more;
And richer will he always grow;
From those that have a little then,
Ev’n that will be away taken.’
‘In parables, I speak, that’s why
Because they look but cannot pry
They hear but don’t to them pay heed
Nor do they understand the need.’
Isaiah’s prophecy’s fulfilled;
Though you hear, you understand not.
Indeed they look but dot see.’
‘The hearts of people are so gross,
They hear and yet have hearing-loss;
They’ve closed their eyes, lest they may see,
Their deafened ears have turned stony,
Nor do they understand by heart,
To be by God’s word, a convert;
I heal them all as it’s my part.’
‘Blessed are your eyes because they see
And ears because they hear surely’
Amen, I say to you this day:
So many prophets and righteous
Had longed to see but saw just less,
And did not see or hear quite well
The things you hear and that I tell.’
Then hear the sower’s parable:
‘The seed that’s sown on path is one
Who hears the Word of God and yet,
Does not truly understand it;
The evil one then comes and steals
Away what’s sown within his heart.’
‘The seed on rocky ground is one
Who hears the word at once with joy
But this lasts only for sometime
When persecution, trials come
He tends to fall away from God.’
‘The seed that falls amongst the thorns
Is one who hears the word but then
The lure of worldly lucre choke
And therefore, it can bear no fruit.’
‘The seed that’s sown on soil that’s rich
Is one who hears and understands
And therefore bears fruit manyfold
Depending on each one’s effort.’
He told another parable:
‘Heaven’s kingdom is like a man
In his own field, who sowed good seed;
At night, his enemy sowed weed.
Amongst the wheat and disappeared;
The good crop grew and bore good fruit;
The weeds also grew very well;
His slaves then came and asked landlord,
‘Didn’t you sow good seed in your field?
How did the weeds happen to come? ’
He replied, ’’Tis enemy’s work.’
His slaves then asked the master then,
‘Should we now go, pull out the weeds? ’
The master said, ‘No, if you do,
The wheat could be uprooted too.
Let’s allow both for now to grow
At harvest time, I’ll give orders
To pull out weeds and make bundles;
And burn them until they turn ash,
Then gather wheat and store in barn.’
He told another parable:
‘The kingdom of Heaven is like
A mustard-seed, a person sowed
In a field though, the smallest seed;
When fully grown, it’s a large bush
And birds build nests on its branches.’
He spoke another parable:
‘The kingdom of heaven’s like yeast,
When mixed with much of wheat flour,
It leavens the entire dough.’
Jesus spoke just in parables,
To fulfill what the prophet said:
‘I’ll open mouth in parables;
I will announce what lies hidden
From foundation of this great world.’
When crowds left, Jesus returned home.
His disciples requested Him
To explain parable, He’d said,
That of the weeds, inside the field.
‘He who sows good seed,
Is the Son of Man;
The field’s the world of men;
Good seed are children of kingdom;
Bad seed are children of Satan;
The enemy, devil;
The harvest, end of age;
Harvesters are angels.
‘Just as how weeds are burned
So, at the end of age
The Son of Man will send
His Angels to gather
All evil-doers and
Those causing others, sin.
They’ll be thrown in furnace
Of fire eternal,
With wailing, teeth-grinding;
The righteous shine like sun,
In their Father’s Kingdom! ’
‘Whoev’r has ears, then ought to hear:
‘Heaven ‘s kingdom’s akin treasure,
A person finds buried in field;
He hides it back with joy again
And sells all that he has, to buy
The field with hidden treasure soon.’
‘Heaven’s Kingdom’s like a merchant,
Who goes in search of costly pearls;
And finding just one priceless one,
He sells all that he possesses,
And buys the invaluable pearl! ’
‘Heaven’s Kingdom’s like a net,
That’s thrown into the sea and wet,
To collect fish of every kind.
When full, the net is hauled ashore;
Good ones are isolated there;
The bad fishes are thrown away.’
‘At end of age, ’twill be like-wise
The angels will go separate
The wicked from the righteous ones
And throw them in Fiery Furnace
Where wailing and grinding of teeth
Occur in manner incessant.’
‘Do you then understand? ’ He asked
And all of them well answered, ‘Yes! ’
Then Jesus said, ‘Each instructed
Scribe in Heaven’s Kingdom is like
A head who brings from his household,
And store-room, both the new and old! ’
When Jesus finished parables,
He went away to His place then.
He reached His native place and taught
The people in their synagogue.
They were so astonished and asked,
‘From where did this man get wisdom
And how does He do mighty deeds? ’
‘Isn’t he the carpenter’s son?
Is not His mother Mary called?
Are not His brothers Joseph, James
Simon, Judas and sisters too?
From where does this man get all this? ’
They took offence at Jesus then.
‘A prophet’s not without honor
Except in his house / native place.’
Because of lack of faith in Him,
He didn’t do mighty deeds more there.
(6-2-2007)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jericho; or, The Waters Healed
Though Jericho pleasantly stood,
And looked like a promising soil;
The harvest produced little food,
To answer the husbandman's toil.
The water some property had,
Which poisonous proved to the ground;
The springs were corrupted and bad,
The streams spread a barrenness round.
But soon by the cruse and the salt,
Prepared by Elisha's command,
The water was cured of its fault,
And plenty enriched the land:
An emblem sure this of the grace
On fruitless dead sinners bestowed;
For man is in Jericho's case,
Till cured by the mercy of God.
How noble a creature he seems!
What knowledge, invention and skill!
How large and extensive his schemes!
How much can he do if he will!
His zeal to be learned and wise,
Will yield to no limits or bars;
He measures the earth and the skies,
And numbers and marshals the stars.
Yet still he is barren of good;
In vain are his talents and art;
For sin has infected his blood,
And poisoned the streams of his heart:
Though cockatrice eggs he can hatch,
Or, spider-like, cobwebs can weave;
'Tis madness to labor and watch
For what will destroy or deceive.
But grace, like the salt in the cruse,
When cast in the spring of the soul;
A wonderful change will produce,
Diffusing new life through the whole:
The wilderness blooms like a rose,
The heart which was vile and abhorred;
Now fruitful and beautiful grows,
The garden and joy of the Lord.
poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 128
Family blessings.
O happy man, whose soul is filled
With zeal and reverent awe!
His lips to God their honors yield,
His life adorns the law.
A careful providence shall stand
And ever guard thy head,
Shall on the labors of thy hand
Its kindly blessings shed.
[Thy wife shall be a fruitful vine;
Thy children round thy board,
Each like a plant of honor shine,
And learn to fear the Lord.]
The Lord shall thy best hopes fulfil
For months and years to come;
The Lord, who dwells on Zion's hill,
Shall send thee blessings home.
This is the man whose happy eyes
Shall see his house increase;
Shall see the sinking church arise,
Then leave the world in peace.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Lord's Harvest of Plenty
What a truly awesome thought indeed,
That throughout your day you live among seed.
Not the seeds that one would find in the ground,
These are not seen, but in the heart they are found.
These seeds are planted by the children of God,
As they simply follow the path The Savior has trod.
Your life as a Christian is not merely good deeds,
As your faithful witness could plant one of these seeds.
Or your life may be busy with a seed you don't know,
And your faithful witness is helping that little seed grow.
Planting and watering, as a Christian, is all we afford,
While all of the growth of that seed comes from the Lord.
After a little growth it is no longer a seed,
But a new vibrant Christian prepared for a deed.
The deed that has been prepared, I'm sure that you know,
Is to plant some new seed and to help water and help grow.
Once they have grown, they are cut with God's sickle of love,
And taken by The Lord to their Father's Home up above.
Whether the numbers are few or they are many,
You can be part of The Lord's Harvest of Plenty.
(Copyright © 08/2002)
The Sower
Beneath the mild sun vanish the vapor's last wet traces,
And for the autumn sowing the mellow soil lies steeping;
The stubble fires have faded and ended is the reaping;
The piercing plow has leveled the rough resisting places.
The solitary sower along the brown field paces--
Two steps and then a handful, a rhythmic motion keeping;
The eager sparrows follow, now pecking and now peeping.
He sows; but all the increase accomplished by God's grace is.
And whether frost be fatal or drought be devastating,
The blades rise green and slender for spring-time winds to flutter,
As time of golden harvest the coming fall awaiting.
None see the silent yearnings the sower's lips half utter,
the carping care he suffers, distressing thoughts creating.
With steady hand he paces afield without a mutter.
poem by Carmen Sylva
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Burial of Sarah
He stood before the sons of Heth,
And bowed his sorrowing head;
"I've come," he said, "to buy a place
Where I may lay my dead.
"I am a stranger in your land,
My home has lost its light;
Grant me a place where I may lay
My dead away from sight."
Then tenderly the sons of Heth
Gazed on the mourner's face,
And said, "Oh, Prince, amid our dead,
Choose thou her resting-place.
"The sepulchres of those we love,
We place at thy command;
Against the plea thy grief hath made
We close not heart nor hand."
The patriarch rose and bowed his head,
And said, "One place I crave;
'Tis at the end of Ephron's field,
And called Machpelah's cave.
"Entreat him that he sell to me
For her last sleep that cave;
I do not ask for her I loved
The freedom of a grave."
The son of Zohar answered him,
"Hearken, my lord, to me;
Before our sons, the field and cave
I freely give to thee."
"I will not take it as a gift,"
The grand old man then said;
"I pray thee let me buy the place
Where I may lay my dead."
And with the promise in his heart,
His seed should own that land,
He gave the shekels for the field
He took from Ephron's hand.
And saw afar the glorious day
His chosen seed should tread,
The soil where he in sorrow lay
His loved and cherished dead.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!