Difference between revisions of "Scatter Seeds of Kindness"
From HymnWiki
m (Created page with '=Sheet Music= ==Tune from Relief Society Song Book, 1919, no. 5== *PDF *MIDI *[[media:…') |
m (→Lyrics from Relief Society Song Book, 1919, no. 5) |
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How those little hands remind us, | How those little hands remind us, | ||
As in snowy grace they lie, | As in snowy grace they lie, | ||
| − | Not to scatter | + | Not to scatter thorns—but roses— |
For our reaping by and by.</pre> | For our reaping by and by.</pre> | ||
Latest revision as of 10:24, 20 July 2010
Contents
Sheet Music
Tune from Relief Society Song Book, 1919, no. 5
- MIDI
- LilyPond
- Copyright: Public Domain
- Source: Relief Society Song Book, 1919, no. 5
- Contributor: Veramet 17:21, 20 July 2010 (UTC)
Tunes
- Tune from Relief Society Song Book, 1919, no. 5, by Unknown Composer
- Copyright: Public domain
Lyrics
- Poet: Unknown Poet
- Copyright: Public domain
Lyrics from Relief Society Song Book, 1919, no. 5
1. Let us gather up the sunbeams, Lying all around our path; Let us keep the wheat and roses, Casting out the thorns and chaff. Let us find our sweetest comfort In the blessings of today, With a patient hand removing All the briars from the way. Refrain. Then scatter seeds of kindness, Then scatter seeds of kindness, Then scatter seeds of kindness For our reaping by and by. 2. Strange we never prize the music Till the sweetvoiced bird has flown! Strange that we should slight the violets Till the lovely flow'rs are gone! Strange that summer skies and sunshine Never seem onehalf so fair As when winter's snowy pinions Shake the white down in the air. 3. If we knew the baby fingers, Pressed against the window pane, Would be cold and stiff tomorrow— Never trouble us again— Would the bright eyes of our darling Catch the frown upon our brow?— Would the prints of rosy fingers Vex us then as they do now? 4. Ah! those little icecold fingers, How they point our mem'ries back To the hasty words and actions Strewn along our backward track! How those little hands remind us, As in snowy grace they lie, Not to scatter thorns—but roses— For our reaping by and by.
