As pilgrims and strangers we journey through life:
Through sunshine and shadow, through calm and through strife;
Each day we are scattering seed as we go,
Someday ’twill be harvest-‘we reap what we sow.’
Though weary and worn, and alone in your way,
And stormclouds are gath’ring, and dark is your day,
Weep not, toiling one, neither faint as you go;
The harvest is nearing-‘we reap what we sow.’
Though life may appear as a cold, barren waste,
And comes no return of the bread you have cast,
Continue to do loving deeds as you go;
The harvest is nearing-‘we reap what we sow.’
We’ll reap what we sow when the harvest is come,
Someday we shall garner the deeds we have done;
Then heed not the storm, nor the cold winds that blow,
Toil on till the harvest-‘we reap what we sow.’
