O, be not faithless! with the morn

Cast thou abroad thy grain!

At noontide faint not thou forlorn,

At evening sow again!

Blessed are they, whate’er betide,

Who thus all waters sow beside.

Thou knowest not which seed shall grow,

Or which may die, or live;

In faith, and hope, and patience, sow!

The increase God shall give,

According to His gracious will,—

As best his purpose may fulfil.

O, could our inward eye but view,

Our hearts but feel aright,

What faith, and love, and hope, can do,

By their celestial might,

We should not say, till these be dead,

The power of miracle is fled.