[Written for the Sentinel]

Truth's Ministry

I sowed a little plot of life with weeds,Nor ever dreamed that they would bring me sorrow,But fateful winds arose and blew their seedsFar out across the fields of my tomorrow.

O life! how brief the hours my hands did sowThose seeds which bore so much of bitter weeping,—How long the years, how sadly did they go,Which, unrelenting, called me to the reaping!

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