Classic Poem

Along the pathless prairie
The tread of human feet,—
Up rise the smoke-plumed cabins
'Mid springing corn and wheat.
Where, like a lonely ocean,
The wind-swept grasses swung,
The golden sheaves are gathered,
The harvest song is sung.

In vigil of the spirit
A young-eyed listener heard,—
‘Go forth among thy fellows,
Thy seed the living Word!
By springs of joy and sorrow,
In fields of toil and care,
Through deserts of temptation,
Broadcast thy faith and prayer.’

From year to year the prairie
Has waved with ripened grain,
Borne on the tides of traffic
Wide over land and main.
But who shall mart the harvest
Of nobler thought and deed,
Of holier faith and purpose,
Sprung from the sower's seed?

O brave and faithful sower,
Not thine on earth to bind
The full sheaves of thy harvest,
The growths of heart and mind:
Outspreads in widening circles
The life-embodied Word,
And they shall bear thee witness
Thy voice who never heard.

The people cease from labor,
The children leave their play;
All bring thee love and honor
To crown thy festal day.
The heavens glow in beauty
Lit by the westering sun,
And God's far stars shall guide thee
When the long day is done.