The Ingathering

Father of the harvest,
Hear this, our thankful prayer,
For all the precious ingathering
Of bounty everywhere.

The sown seed has sprouted forth,
The full crop has appeared;
The wheat is garnered, tares
cast off
For this, another year.

O Father of the harvest,
Keep us within Thy fold
That we may be the wheat,
not tares,
At the ingathering of souls.

Loise Pinkerton Fritz

Matt: 13:24-31

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