Many a power within earth’s bosom,

Noiseless, hidden, works beneath;

Hence are seed and leaf and blossom,

Golden ear and clustered wreath.

Wind and frost, and hour and season,

Land and water, sun and shade,—

Work with these, as bids thy reason,

For they work thy toil to aid.

Sow thy seed and reap in gladness!

Man himself is all a seed;

Hope and hardship, joy and sadness,

Slow the plant to ripeness lead.