1 O God, by whom the seed is given,
By whom the harvest blest;
Whose word, like manna showered from heaven,
Is planted in our breast;
2 Preserve it from the passing feet,
And plunderers of the air;
The sultry sun's intenser heat,
And weeds of worldly care!
3 Though buried deep, or thinly strewn,
Do Thou Thy grace supply;
The hope, in earthly furrows sown,
Shall ripen in the sky.