WE KNOW WHAT THE HARVEST WILL BE.
We plant a bright flower for the butterfly;
We plant a sweet flower for the bee.
We feed and we clothe the hungry and cold,
“We know what the harvest will be.”
We plant a good thought in some weary heart,
The thought that we plant goes to seed;
Increasing in strength full an hundred fold,
The thought will become a good deed.
A deed that will live in many a heart,
Will travel forever, and on;
Forgotten will never be words nor deeds;
They live and will thrive when we’re gone.
A well we may dig in a desert land,
Some traveler stops on the road,
And quenches his thirst in the living spring,
And lighter will now seem his load.
We may plant a tree, and its cooling shade
Will shelter some traveler worn,
And never from memory will it fade,
And never from heart can be torn.
In all of this life, ’tis the little things
That help and will cheer our lone way,
A sip of cold water, a little word,
Will many a sorrow allay.
And if in our hearts no envy doth reign,
From malice we ever are free,
Have nothing but love for even a foe;
“We know what the harvest will be.”