We Plough the Fields

We plough the fields and scatter

The good seed on the land,

But it is fed and watered

By God’s almighty hand;

He sends the snow in winter,

The warmth to swell the grain,

The breezes and the sunshine,

And soft refreshing rain.

He only is the Maker

Of all things near and far;

He paints the wayside flower,

He lights the evening star;

The winds and waves obey Him,

By Him the birds are fed;

Much more to us, His children,

He gives our daily bread.

We thank Thee, then, O Father,

For all things bright and good;

The seedtime and the harvest,

Our life, our health, our food.

No gifts have we to offer

For all Thy love imparts,

But that which Thou desirest,

Our humble, thankful hearts.