Show My Fathers Father's Field A maiden stood where the fields were ripe And gathered the golden wheat Gayly she sang as s she bound her sheaves And laid them about her feet One marked her there as she passed her herby herby by Alone with her hard-earned hard spoil And spoke of rest for the sun lIun was high And the reaper spent with toll But the maiden smiled as her glad voice said Nay N lady dt I may not i yield I d h great T The work r is great t but the work Is sweet I toil toll In my fathers father's field Gleaners of Christ in your our lon lonely ly toll toil When weary and fain to yield Take comfort here though the work is great Ye toil toU in your Fathers Father's field And the Fathers Father's house lies over the hill l Where Where the the the sun lIun of life goes down There shall ye rest and the Fathers Father's smile Forever your work shall crown E. E. E G. G Stuart |