THE HARVEST

The promise is while earth remains
That harvests shall not cease,
That God’s own people may be fed,
And verily have peace.
But as we look around to-day
And see the golden grain,
The staple food of man and beast,
Destroyed by ceaseless rain.

We ask ourselves why this is so,
Considering the need
There is that non should be now lost
No, not a single seed.
The corn, which is a weighty crop,
The “wholesomest” of food
Is in a “wretched” state just now
With outlook not too good.

What is our duty my dear friends
In view of this sad state?
It is not that we save the crops
Knowing the need is great.
No one should think themselves above
Giving a helping hand
To gather in the eatables,
The fruits of our good land.

But work is only just a part
Of the Creator’s plan,
We should count more upon our God,
And not alone on man
So let us call upon Him now,
And He will surely hear,
And for the sake of His dear Son,
Crown this a fruitful year.
AMEN

Eddie, Cullybackey 14th September 1918