1 Holy is the seed-time, when the buried grain
Sinks to sleep in darkness, but to wake again.
Holy is the springtime, when the living corn,
Bursting from its prison, riseth like the morn.
2 Holy is the harvest, when each ripened ear,
Bending to the sickle, crowns the golden year;
Store them in our garners; winnow them with care;
Give to God the glory in our praise and prayer.
3 Holy seed our Master soweth in His field;
Be the harvest holy which our hearts shall yield;
Be our bodies holy, resting in the clay,
Till the Resurrection summons them away.
4 Glory to the Father, who beheld our need;
Glory to the Savior, who hath sown the seed;
Glory to the Spirit, giving the increase;
Glory, as it has been, is, and ne’er shall cease!
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #10374