Seeds with “No more the curse,” O Christ we praise Thee and Sow in the morn thy seed

“No more the curse,” O Christ we praise Thee,
Thy blood the triumph wins;
The cross to which Thy love did raise Thee,
Hath put away our sins.

“No more of pain” and careworn faces,
No forms bowed with disease;
O’er all the earth the Lord replaces,
His Paradise of Peace.

“No more of night,” the day is dawning:
The Lord is drawing near;
With Him shall come the longed for morning,
When night shall disappear.

“No more the curse,” no more the crying,
All thirst and hunger o’er;
No more the night, no more the dying,
No tears or sorrow more.

Chorus
“There shall be no more curse,
Neither sorrow nor crying;
There shall be no more pain,
Neither darkness nor dying;
And God shall wipe away
All tears from their eyes.”
          El Nathan

(2 slightly different versions)

Sow in the morn thy seed,
  At eve hold not thy hand;
To doubt and fear give thou no heed,
  Broadcast it o’er the land.

Thou knowest not which may thrive,
  The late or early sown,
Grace keeps the precious germs alive,
  When and wherever strown.

Thou canst not toil in vain;
  Cold, heat, and moist, and dry,
Shall foster and mature the grain
  For garners in the sky.

Thence, when the glorious end,
  The day of God, is come,
The angel reapers shall descend,
  And Heaven cry, “Harvest Home.”
        James Montgomery


  Sow in the morn thy seed;
  At eve hold not thy hand;
To doubt and fear give thou no heed,
  Broadcast it o’er the land.

  Thou knowest not which shall thrive,
  The late or early sown;
Grace keeps the precious germs alive,
  When and wherever strown.

  And duly shall appear,
  In verdure, beauty, strength,
The tender blade, the stalk, the ear,
  And the full corn at length.

  Thou canst not toil in vain:
  Cold, heat, and moist, and dry,
Shall foster and mature the grain
  For garners in the sky.

  Then, when the glorious end,
  The day of God, shall come,
The angel reapers shall descend,
  And heaven shout, “Harvest home!”
         James Montgomery