[Written for the Sentinel]

Recompense

One comes, a tiller of the soil is he,
And finds a heart o'ergrown with weeds;
His words plow deep and reach that troubled heart
For those who follow with the seeds.

Another comes, and he is sowing seed
With songs or sympathizing tears;
And in the thought the other has prepared,
Ere long a tiny blade appears.

Another's words may be like morning dew;
Another's like the gentle rain;
The sunshine needed, God's eternal love,—
The seed soon grows to golden grain.

And then the reaper comes and gathers in
This ripened grain, with joy untold;
But think you, that from each who did his part
The Lord will His reward withhold?

Nay, ye who teach the Word of God, take heart.
Whate'er your work, just do your best;
Lean thou on God, and know His holy will;
Thy Father-Mother God will do the rest.

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