SOW BESIDE ALL WATERS by Mary Martin

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 19, 1873

SOW BESIDE ALL WATERS.

By Mary Martin

“In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether both shall be alike good.” Eccl. 11:6.

DARK is the river that floweth beside me, Marshy the land that upon its banks lie; Trembling I hold in my hand the seed given, What is the use of this sowing? I cry. Sweetly the voice of the Master commands me, “The work I appointed do bravely and well; What the result shall be does not concern thee, Eternity’s morning this story will tell.

“The dewdrops and bird songs have come with the morning. What time more befitting for work or for prayer? Then cast in the seed and make no delaying, When thou needest my help I shall ever be there. ’Tis evening; the moonlight is crowning the mountain, And swiftly the river flows down to the sea; ‘Withhold not thine hand,’ but be careful in sowing, Remember, this work thou art doing for me.

“Beside all waters; thus reads thy commission; Freely receiving the God-given seed, Freely bestowing, implore thou a blessing From Him who has promised grace equal thy need. The marshes that lie by the murkiest water, Perchance may yield fruit in the gathering day, While nothing but leaves may grow on the margin Where golden sands sleep, and the bright billows play.

“But though Paul should plant and Apollos should water, ’Tis I who the harvest time increase must give; Thy efforts are fruitless unless I shall bless them, With the knowledge of this in humility live. Go often to look in Gethsemane’s garden, Nor wonder that sorrow should sometimes be thine. Accept of the cross upon Calvary’s mountain, The wormwood, the gall, and the crown that were mine”

I accept; I will count not the prayers I must offer, Or while the seed sowing, the tears I must shed; I will gladly walk on o’er the thorns in my pathway, ’Neath dark, frowning clouds that are hanging o’erhead. If at last, when rewards to the faithful are given, With hearts full of joy, we know as we’re known, I may clasp my glad hands round a sheaf that has ripened From the seed that with trembling and fear I have sown.

MARY MARTIN.

New Hampshire.