They planted with tears in the cold, muddy ground,
While sorrow and sighing were all that they found.
With hands that were heavy and eyes full of rain,
They buried their hope with the seed and the grain.
But oh what a change when the sun starts to shine,
And green shoots come bursting in line after line.
The fields start to dance in a golden parade—
A harvest of joy from the hopes they have prayed.
Their arms will be full and their hearts full of song.
The sorrow they carried won’t stay very long.
For all who have wept while they labored and tried,
Will laugh as they carry God’s abundance by their side.
